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The Gospel of John

A Commentary

VOLUME I

Craig S. Keener

Keener_GospelJohnVol.1.indd 3 3/29/12 12:34 PM

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Published by Baker Academic

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www.bakeracademic.com

Baker Academic edition published 2012

ISBN 978-0-8010-4675-9

Previously published in 2003 by Hendrickson Publishers

Printed in the United States of America

any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission

of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

The Library of Congress has cataloged the original edition as follows:

Keener, Craig S., 1960–

The Gospel of John : a commentary / Craig S. Keener.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 1-56563-378-4 (hardcover : alk. paper)

1. Bible. N.T. John—Commentaries. I. Title.

BS2615.53.K44 2003

226.5 07—dc22 2003016153

The internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication.

They are provided as a resource. Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or

permanence.

12 13 14 15 16 17 18 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Keener_GospelJohnVol.1.indd 4 3/29/12 12:34 PM

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

To D. Moody Smith, my doctoral mentor at Duke University

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface xxv

Approach xxv

Limitations of this Commentary xxvi

Nature of the Sources xxix

Acknowledgements xxxi

Abbreviations xxxiii

Introduction

1. Genre and Historical Considerations 3

Proposals concerning Gospel Genre 4

1. Folk Literature or Memoirs? 5

2. Novels and Drama 8

Biographies 11

1. Greco-Roman Biography and History 12

2. How History Was Written 17

3. Evaluating the Accuracy of Particular Works 23

4. Jewish Biographical Conventions 25

The Gospels as Historical Biography 29

Noncanonical Gospel Traditions 34

Source Criticism of the Fourth Gospel 37

John, Historical Tradition, and the Synoptics 40

John and Historical Tradition 42

John’s Distinctive Style and Adaptation of the Gospel Form 47

Conclusion 51

2. The Discourses of the Fourth Gospel 53

Oral Traditions, Notes, and Memory 54

1. Oral Cultures 54

2. Note-Taking 55

3. Disciples, Learning, and Memorization 57

4. Memorization of Speeches 60

5. Sayings Traditions 62

Controversy Forms 65

John’s Discourses and Ancient Speech-writing 68

1.SpeechesasInterpretiveEvents 69

2. One Jewish Historian’s Speeches 71

3. More Accurate Speeches 72

4. Stylistic Freedom 74

vii

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Special Factors in Johannine Discourse 76

Conclusion 79

3. Authorship 81

Who Wrote the Fourth Gospel? 82

John the Apostle 83

1. Internal Evidence 84

1A. The Identity of the Beloved Disciple 84

1B. Westcott’s Process of Elimination 89

2. Church Tradition 91

2A. The Gnostic and Orthodox Consensus 92

2B. Second-Century Orthodoxy and the Fourth Gospel 93

2C. Papias and John the Elder 95

3. Other External Evidence 98

4. Other Objections 100

Levels of Redaction? 105

1. Brown’s Theory of the Community’s Development 105

2. The Johannine Circle of Early Christianity 109

3. The Johannine School 109

4. Distinguishing the Beloved Disciple and the Author 111

5. Major Redaction in the Fourth Gospel? 112

Conclusion regarding Authorship 114

The Paraclete and Internal Claims to Inspiration 115

1. The Paraclete and John’s Composition 117

2. Prophetic Composition of Discourses? 118

3. Nature of the Inspiration 121

4. Conclusion regarding Inspiration 122

The Author and Other Johannine Literature 122

1. Gospel versus Epistles 123

2. Gospel versus Revelation 126

2A. Vocabulary Differences? 128

Common Language in Both 129

Differences Due to Situation or Genre 130

Arguments from Vocabulary 131

2B. Theological Differences? 133

Theological Similarities 133

Similarities in Apocalyptic Worldview 137

2C.ConclusiononJohnandRevelation 138

4. Social Contexts 140

Date 140

Provenance and Location of Audience 142

Was John’s Community Sectarian? 149

Eastern Mediterranean Backgrounds in General 152

Gentile Backgrounds in General 154

1. General Greek Background 155

2. A Gentile Component in the Johannine Community 158

3. Indian Buddhism? 159

4. Mystery Backgrounds? 160

viii

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Gnosticism and the Fourth Gospel 161

1. Gnostic Traits in John? 162

2. Nag Hammadi, the Hermetica, Mandaism 164

3. Jewish Gnosticism? 166

4. Pre-Christian Gnosticism in General 168

Samaritan Background for the Gospel 169

5. A Jewish Context 171

The Jewishness of the Gospel 172

Diaspora Jewish Background 175

1. What Kind of Diaspora Judaism? 175

2. Relations with the Provincial Administration 176

A Palestinian Jewish Context? 180

1. Methodology 180

2. The Diversity of Early Judaism 181

3. Excursus: The Value of Rabbinic Texts for Johannine Study 185

3A. New Testament Scholarship and Rabbinic Literature 185

3B. Neusner’s Minimalism 187

3C. External Support for Some Traditions 191

3D. Difficulties in Tradition Criticism 193

3E. Conclusions 194

Conflict with the Synagogue 194

1. Scholarly Discussion about the Conflict 195

2. Theological Issues 198

2A. Ecclesiology 199

2B. Bibliology 201

2C. Christology 202

2D. Pneumatology 203

3. Unwelcome in the Synagogues 207

4. John’s Purpose in This Setting 214

“The Jews” and Johannine Irony 214

1. Negative Uses of “the Jews” 216

2. Previous Discussions of John’s “Jews” 219

3. Related Uses of Irony in the Fourth Gospel 223

4. The Jewishness of the Disciples 226

5. “The Jews” and the Johannine Sitz: Pharisaic Power 226

6. Conclusion 227

Galilee versus Judea 228

1. How “Orthodox” Were the Galileans? 228

2. Were More Galileans Revolutionaries? 230

3. Socioeconomic Differences Due to Urbanization 230

4. Location of the Elite 231

5. Theological Motivations 231

Conclusion 232

6. Revelatory Motifs: Knowledge, Vision, Signs 233

Knowledge of God 234

1. Special Hellenistic Concepts of Knowledge 234

1A. Hellenistic Knowledge in General 235

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Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

1B. Hellenism and Self-Knowledge 236

1C. Hellenistic Knowledge of the Divine 237

1D. John and Gnostic Knowledge 238

2. Knowledge in Various Jewish Sources 239

2A. Knowledge of God in Philo 240

2B. Knowledge in Palestinian Judaism 240

Knowledge in the Qumran Scrolls 240

Other Jewish Conceptions of Knowing God 241

The Old Testament Basis 242

3. Johannine Knowledge of God 243

3A. Distribution of Terms 244

3B. John’s Emphasis on Knowledge 246

Revelatory Vision 247

1. Vision of God in Hellenistic Sources 247

2. Vision of God in More Hellenized Judaism 248

3. Vision of God in Less Hellenized Judaism 249

4. Vision of God in the Fourth Gospel 251

Signs in Antiquity, the Jesus Tradition, and the Fourth Gospel 251

1. The Johannine Signs Source 252

2. Ancient Miracles and Miracle Accounts 253

2A. Pagan Parallels to Miracle Accounts 253

2B. Miracle Workers in Pagan Tradition 254

2C. Jewish Parallels to Gospel Miracles 255

3. Historically Evaluating the Jesus Tradition’s Miracles 257

3A. Differences between Early Christian and Other Ancient Miracle Stories 258

Differences between Early Christian and Pagan Miracle Stories 258

Comparisons of Jesus’ Miracles with Those in Jewish Tradition 259

Parallels and the Authenticity of Jesus’ Miracles 260

3B. Historical Authenticity of Accounts 261

A Skeptical Reading of Ancient Accounts 261

Nature Miracles 263

Modern Skepticism toward Miracles 264

4. Miracles and Jesus’ Identity 268

4A. The Divine Man Hypothesis 268

4B. A Charismatic Wonder-Worker 270

5. Function of Signs 272

5A. Signs as Authentication 272

5B. Purpose of Signs in the Fourth Gospel 275

5C. Signs-Faith 276

5D. Signs-Faith as a Biblical Allusion 277

Conclusion 279

7. Christology and Other Theology 280

The Thrust of John’s Christology 281

John’s Christological Distinctiveness 282

Christ 283

1. Messianic Expectation in Judaism 284

2. Divergences in Messianic Expectation 286

3. Jesus and the Messiah 289

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Son of God 291

1. Greco-Roman Sons of God 291

2. Jewish Uses of “Son of God” 294

3. Early Christian and Johannine Sonship 296

Lord 297

Jesus’ Deity in Early Christian Tradition 298

1. Greek Divinization or Jewish Monotheism? 298

2. Wisdom Christology 300

3. John’s Christology and Christian Tradition 302

3A. Jesus as Deity in the Synoptic Traditions? 303

3B. Diverse but Complementary Christologies 307

The Motif of Agency 310

1. The Agent in Ancient Society 310

2. The Jewish Agent as New Testament Background? 311

3. Meaning of Agency and Apostleship 313

4. Johannine Usage of Agency 315

Nontraditional Christological Images 317

Conclusion regarding Christology 320

Some Other Johannine Themes 320

1. Realized Eschatology 320

2. Love 324

3. Faith 325

4. Life 328

5. The World 329

Conclusion 330

The Prologue (1:1–18)

Preliminary Introduction 333

An Original Part of the Gospel 333

A Redacted Hymn? 334

Purpose of the Prologue 338

The Gnostic Logos 339

The Logos of Hellenistic Philosophy 341

Philo’s Logos 343

Palestinian Sources besides Wisdom and Torah 347

1. Antecedents 348

2. The Memra 349

Wisdom, Word, Torah 350

1. Personification of the Word 350

2. Wisdom 352

3. Wisdom’s Identification with Torah 354

4. The Role of Torah in Judaism 355

5. The Renewal of Torah in Judaism 358

6. The Personification of Torah in Judaism 359

John’sLogosasTorah 360

Conclusion 363

The Final Word 364

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Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

The Preexistent Word (1:1–2) 364

1. In the Beginning (1:1a, 2) 365

2. The Word’s Preexistence (1:1–2) 367

2A. Wisdom or Torah as God’s First Creation 367

2B. The Preexistence of John’s Logos 369

2C. The Word Was with God (1:1b) 369

3. The Word’s Deity (1:1c) 370

The Word and Creation (1:3) 374

1. Proposed Greek Parallels 375

2. Jewish Views of Creation 377

3. Creation by Word, Wisdom, Torah 379

The Word as Life and Light (1:4–5) 381

1. Uses of Light Imagery 382

2. Jesus as the Life 385

3. Light Prevails over Darkness 386

John Only a Witness (1:6–8) 388

1. Polemic against a Baptist Sect 388

2. John as a Witness 391

The World Rejects the Light (1:9–11) 393

1. The True Light Enlightens Everyone (1:9) 393

2. The World Knew Him Not (1:10) 395

3. His Own Received Him Not (1:11) 398

Those Who Received Him (1:12–13) 399

1. Believers as God’s Children (1:12) 399

2. Not According to the Flesh (1:13) 404

The New Sinai (1:14–18) 405

1. The Revelation (1:14) 406

1A. The Word’s Incarnation (1:14) 406

1B. The Word Tabernacled among Us (1:14) 408

1C. We Beheld His Glory (1:14) 410

1D. The monogenh/q Son (1:14, 18) 412

1E. Full of Grace and Truth (1:14) 416

2. The Baptist’s Testimony (1:15) 419

3. Greater than Moses’ Revelation (1:16–18) 419

3A. Receiving the Fulness of Grace and Truth (1:16) 420

3B. Christ More Gracious Than Law (1:17) 421

3C. Beholding God’s Face in Christ (1:18) 422

Witness in Judea, Samaria, and Galilee (1:19–6:71)

The Witness of the First Disciples 429

The Witness of the Forerunner to Israel (1:19–28) 429

1. Those Who Were Sent (1:19, 24) 431

2. John’s Denials (1:20–23) 433

2A. Not Elijah (1:21a) 434

2B. Not the Prophet (1:21b) 436

2C. A Voice Crying (1:23) 437

3. The Purpose of John’s Baptism (1:25–26, 31) 440

3A. The Function of Baptism in This Gospel 440

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THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

3B. Proposed Parallels with Other Ancient Baptisms 442

3C. Baptism as a Sign of Conversion 444

3D. John and Proselyte Baptism 447

4. John’s Confession of the Greater One (1:27) 448

5. A Historical Note (1:28) 449

The Spirit’s Witness about Jesus (1:29–34) 451

1. The Sin-Bearing Lamb (1:29, 36) 452

1A. Proposed Backgrounds 452

1B. Historical Tradition or Johannine Theology? 455

2. Ranked Before the Baptist (1:30) 456

3. Jesus and the Abiding Spirit (1:32–33) 457

4. The Spirit-Baptizer (1:33) 461

5. God’s Son or Chosen One (1:34) 463

New Disciples (1:35–42) 465

1. Historical Plausibility 465

2. Following Jesus Home (1:37–39) 467

2A. Low-Key Hospitality 468

2B. Testing Would-Be Disciples 472

3. Andrew and Simon (1:40–42) 475

Philip and Nathanael (1:43–51) 479

1. Jesus Seeks Philip (1:43–44) 480

2. Philip Seeks Nathanael (1:45–46) 482

3. Nathanael Meets Jesus (1:47–51) 485

3A. Nathanael as a True Jacob or Israelite (1:47–48) 485

3B. Jesus as Israel’s King (1:49) 487

3C. Jesus as Jacob’s Ladder (1:50–51) 488

True Purification 492

Relationship versus Ritual Purification (2:1–11) 492

1. Preliminary Questions 492

2. The Setting of the Sign (2:1–3a) 495

2A. Cana (2:1) 495

2B. The Third Day (2:1) 496

2C. Wedding Customs (2:2–3) 498

3. The Faith of Jesus’ Mother (2:3b–5) 501

3A. Jesus’ Mother (2:3, 5) 501

3B. Jesus’ Answer (2:4) 504

4. Mercy before Ritual (2:6) 509

5. Those Who Recognize the Miracle (2:7–10) 513

6. Manifesting His Glory (2:11) 515

The Old and New Temples (2:12–22) 517

1. Transition (2:12) 517

2. Purifying the Temple (2:13–15) 518

2A. Historical Probability 520

2B. The Merchants 520

2C. History and Special Johannine Features 521

3. Why Jesus Challenged the Temple (2:16) 522

3A. Economic Exploitation? 522

3B. Defending the Worship of Gentiles? 524

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3C. Judgment on the Temple 524

4. Foreshadowing His Death and Resurrection (2:17–22) 527

Untrustworthy Believers (2:23–25) 531

The Son from Above 533

Nicodemus and the Heavenly Witness (3:1–21) 533

1. Nicodemus Comes to Jesus (3:1–2) 534

1A. Nicodemus (3:1) 535

1B. Nicodemus Comes by Night (3:2) 536

2. Birth from Above (3:3) 537

2A. Birth from Above and Understanding 537

2B. Hellenistic Rebirth 539

2C. Jewish Contexts for Rebirth 542

3. What This Birth Means (3:4–8) 544

3A. Nicodemus Misunderstands (3:4) 545

3B. Born of Water (3:5) 546

3C. Born of the Spirit (3:5) 550

3D. Born of Flesh or of Spirit? (3:6) 552

3E. Explaining the Spirit’s Ways (3:7–8) 555

4. The Heavenly Witness (3:9–13) 558

4A. Nicodemus’s Ignorance (3:9–10) 558

4B. The Earthly Cannot Grasp the Heavenly (3:12) 559

4C. Jesus’ Heavenly Testimony (3:11, 13) 560

5. Trusting God’s Uplifted Agent (3:14–21) 563

5A. Lifting Moses’ Serpent (3:14) 563

5B. God Gave His Son (3:15–16) 566

5C. Saved from Condemnation (3:17–18) 570

5D. Responding to the Light (3:19–21) 571

The Greater and the Lesser (3:22–36) 574

1. Setting for the Discourse (3:22–26) 575

1A. Jesus’ Ministry and John’s Ministry (3:22–23, 26) 575

1B. John’s Location (3:23) 576

1C. John Was Not Yet in Prison (3:24) 577

1D. John versus Traditional Jewish Purifications (3:25–26) 577

2. Jesus Is Greater Than John (3:27–30) 578

3. Jesus Is God’s Supreme Representative (3:31–36) 581

TheResponseoftheUnorthodox 584

True Worshipers in Samaria (4:1–42) 584

1. Theological Themes in the Narrative 585

2. Historical Questions 587

3. The Setting (4:1–6) 587

3A. The Baptism of Jesus’ Disciples (4:1–2) 587

3B. Samaria (4:4) 588

3C. Holy Geography (4:3–5) 589

3D. Jacob’s Well (4:6) 590

4. Crossing Social Boundaries (4:6–9) 591

4A. The Moral Barrier (4:7–8) 593

4B. The Gender Barrier (4:7–9) 596

xiv

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Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

4C. Jews Have No Dealings with Samaritans (4:9) 598

5. The Gift of Living Water (4:10–14) 601

5A. Greater Than Our Father Jacob (4:12) 601

5B. Jesus’ Gift of Water (4:10–11, 13–14) 602

6. The Moral Question (4:15–18) 605

7. True Worship (4:19–24) 608

7A. You Are a Prophet (4:19) 609

7B. Salvation Is from the Jews (4:22) 610

7C. Worship in This Mountain (4:20) 611

7D. Jerusalem as the Place to Worship (4:20) 613

7E. Worship in Spirit (4:21, 23–24) 615

7F. Worship in Truth (4:23–24) 618

7G. God Is a Spirit (4:24) 618

7H. The Father Seeks Such Worshipers (4:23) 619

8. Jesus’ Revelation, the Woman’s Witness (4:25–30) 619

8A. The Taheb Is Coming (4:25–26) 619

8B. The Disciples Return (4:27) 620

8C. The Woman Announces Jesus (4:28–30) 621

9. Fulfilling His Mission (4:31–38) 623

10. The Faith of the Samaritans (4:39–42) 626

Received in Galilee (4:43–54) 628

1. Prophet without Honor (4:43–45) 628

2. A Galilean Aristocrat Learns Faith (4:46–53) 630

God’s Work on the Sabbath 634

Jesus Heals on the Sabbath (5:1–16) 634

1. Jesus, Not Bethesda, Heals (5:1–9a) 635

1A. The Occasion (5:1, 9) 635

1B. Bethesda (5:2) 636

1C. The Johannine Context 639

1D. The Miracle (5:5–9a) 640

2. Different Views of the Sabbath (5:9b–16) 641

2A. Sabbath Practices (5:9–12) 641

2B. Second Chance (5:13–15) 643

2C. Persecuting Jesus for Sabbath Violation (5:16) 644

The Father Authorized the Son (5:17–47) 645

1. Doing the Father’s Will (5:17–30) 645

1A. Annulling the Sabbath and Claiming Equality with God? (5:17–18) 645

1B. The Son Does What the Father Teaches Him (5:19–20) 647

1C. Honor the Son Who Gives Life and Judges (5:21–23) 650

1D. Jesus as Life-Giver in the Present and the Future (5:24–30) 652

2. Witnesses for Jesus (5:31–47) 655

2A. John’s Witness (5:33–35) 657

2B. The Father’s Witness (5:36–44) 657

2C. The Witness of Moses (5:45–47) 660

Giver of the New Manna 663

Jesus Feeds a Multitude (6:1–15) 663

1. The Setting (6:1–4) 664

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Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

2. The Human Solutions (6:5–9) 665

3. The Miracle (6:10–13) 667

4. The Prophet-King (6:14–15) 669

Theophany on the Waters (6:16–21) 671

1. Theological Context for the Account 672

2. The Miracles (6:19, 21) 673

The Manna Discourse (6:22–58) 675

1. The Setting (6:22–25) 675

2. The True Work (6:26–31) 676

3. The Bread of Life (6:32–51) 679

4. Eating Jesus’ Flesh (6:52–58) 687

4A. Sacramentalism? 689

4B. The Text 691

Response and Meaning (6:59–71) 692

1. Too Hard to Accept? (6:59–65) 692

1A. Setting (6:59) 692

1B. Misunderstanding and Explanation (6:60–65) 693

2. Stumbling or Persevering (6:66–71) 695

Tabernacles and Hanukkah (7:1–10:42)

TheTempleDiscourse 703

Jesus Goes to the Feast (7:1–13) 703

1. Jesus and His Brothers (7:1–9) 704

2. Jesus’ Secret Presence at the Festival (7:10–13) 708

Jesus Contends with Jerusalemites (7:14–36) 711

1. The Source of Jesus’ Teaching (7:14–18) 712

2. True Keepers of the Law (7:19–24) 714

3. Jesus’ True Identity (7:25–31) 718

4. Jesus’ Unknown Destination (7:32–36) 720

Responses to Jesus’ Revelation (7:37–52) 721

1. Source of Rivers of Life (7:37–39) 722

1A. The Water-Drawing Ceremony 722

1B. The Meaning of the Water 724

1C. To What Scripture Does Jesus Refer (7:38)? 725

1D. From Whom Does the Water Flow? 728

2. The Multitude Divided (7:40–44) 730

3. The Elite Despise Jesus (7:45–52) 731

Condemning a Sinner’s Accusers (7:53–8:11) 735

Children of the Devil versus God’s Son (8:12–59) 738

1. The True Witness (8:12–20) 739

2. From Above and From Below (8:21–30) 743

3. True Freedom (8:31–36) 746

4. Children of Abraham or the Devil (8:37–51) 752

5. Greater Than Abraham (8:52–59) 765

5A. Assuming Abraham’s Superiority (8:52–53) 766

5B. Witnesses to Jesus’ Superiority (8:54–56) 766

5C. Eternal Existence before Abraham (8:57–59) 768

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Conflict over the Healing of a Blind Man 775

Blindness and Sin (9:1–34) 775

1. Jesus Heals One Blind from Birth (9:1–7) 776

1A. The Timing (9:1) 776

1B. The Cause of Blindness (9:2–5) 777

1C. Spittle (9:6) 779

1D. Siloam (9:7) 781

2. Initial Responses to the Sign (9:8–23) 783

2A. Responses of Neighbors (9:8–12) 783

2B. Debates among the Pharisees (9:13–17) 784

2C. Interrogating the Blind Man’s Parents (9:18–23) 787

3. Debating Jesus’ Identity (9:24–34) 789

3A. Is Jesus a Sinner? (9:24–25) 789

3B. Disciples of Moses? (9:26–28) 790

3C. Jesus Is from God (9:29–34) 792

True Shepherd, Sheep, and Thieves (9:35–10:18) 794

1. Jesus Reveals Himself to the Healed Man (9:35–38) 794

2. Jesus Convicts the Pharisees (9:39–41) 795

3. The Shepherd and the Thieves (10:1–10) 797

3A. The Shepherd/Door Parables 797

3B. The General Background of the Sheep and Shepherd Image (10:1–10) 799

3C. Biblical Source for the Sheep and Shepherd Image (10:1–10) 801

3D. Thieves and Robbers (10:1, 5, 8, 10) 803

3E. The Relationship of Shepherd and Sheep (10:3–6) 805

3F. The Fold and the Door (10:2–3, 7, 9) 809

3G. The Shepherd and Thieves Contrasted (10:10) 812

4. The True Shepherd’s Sacrifice (10:11–18) 813

4A. The Hireling (10:12–13) 814

4B. The Shepherd’s Relationship with the Sheep (10:14–15) 817

4C. Other Sheep and Jesus’ Sacrifice (10:16–18) 818

Divided Response to Jesus (10:19–21) 820

Conflict at Hanukkah 821

The Setting (10:22–23) 821

1. Hanukkah (10:22, 36) 821

2. Winter on Solomon’s Porch (10:23) 823

Unable to Believe God’s Agent (10:24–30) 824

God’s Agent and Human Gods (10:31–38) 826

Responses to Jesus (10:39–42) 830

Introducing the Passion (11:1–12:50)

Dying to Live 835

Raising Lazarus (11:1–44) 835

1. John’s Account 835

2. The Request (11:1–6) 838

3. Going to Judea (11:7–16) 840

4. Martha Meets the Life (11:17–27) 842

5. Mourning with Mary and Others (11:28–37) 845

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6. The Miracle (11:38–44) 848

Responses to the Raising (11:45–12:11) 850

1. Faith and Betrayal among Witnesses (11:45–46) 851

2. The Elite Plot Jesus’ Death (11:47–53) 851

2A. Historical Plausibility 851

2B. Caiaphas, High Priest “That Year” (11:49) 853

2C. The Leaders’ Reasoning (11:47–50) 854

2D. Unintended Truth (11:51–53) 856

3. Danger during Passover Season (11:54–57) 858

4. Mary’s Lavish Devotion (12:1–8) 859

4A. The Tradition 859

4B. The Setting (12:1–2) 861

4C. The Anointing (12:3) 862

4D. Judas’s Protest (12:4–6) 864

4E. Jesus’ Response (12:7–8) 865

5. The Danger to Lazarus (12:9–11) 866

Jerusalem and Its King 867

The Arrival of Zion’s King (12:12–19) 867

1. Authenticity of the Core Tradition 867

2. The Event and Its Significance (12:12–13) 868

3. Scripture Fulfilled (12:14–16) 870

4. Immediate Responses to Jesus’ Entry (12:17–19) 870

Gentiles and the Cross (12:20–36) 871

1. The Coming of Gentiles? (12:20–22) 871

2. The Cross and Divine Glory (12:23–34) 872

2A. Jesus’ Hour of Glory (12:23–24) 872

2B. The Price of Following Jesus (12:25–26) 873

2C. Glorifying God by Suffering (12:27–30) 875

2D. Judgment on the World’s Ruler (12:31) 879

2E. Jesus’ Exaltation by the Cross (12:32–34) 880

3. Inviting Faith in the Light (12:35–36) 882

Israel’s Unbelief (12:37–43) 882

1. Isaiah’s Revelation (12:37–41) 883

2. Preferring Their Own Glory (12:42–43) 885

Jesus as God’s Standard of Judgment (12:44–50) 886

Farewell Discourse (13:1–17:26)

Introductory Issues 893

Unity of the Discourse 893

A Testament of Jesus? 896

TheUltimateModelforLoveandService 899

The Setting (13:1–3) 899

Authenticity and Significance of the Foot Washing 901

1. The Question of Historical Authenticity 901

2. The Message of the Foot Washing 901

3. The Practice of Foot Washing 903

4. The Model of Humility 904

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The Foot Washing and Its First Interpretation (13:4–20) 907

1. The Act of Washing (13:4–5) 908

2. The Necessity of the Washing (13:6–11) 908

3. The Interpretation of the Washing (13:12–20) 910

Interpreting the Washing in Light of the Cross (13:21–38) 914

1. The Betrayal Announced (13:21–30) 915

2. The Passion Again Announced (13:31–33) 920

3. Following Jesus’ Model (13:34–35) 923

4. Devotion to the Death? (13:36–38) 927

Jesus’ Return and Presence 930

Going to the Father (14:1–6) 930

1. Trusting the Father and Jesus (14:1) 930

2. Dwelling in the Father’s House (14:2–3) 932

2A. The Father’s House (14:2) 932

2B. Dwelling and Deity 933

2C. A Dwelling Place (14:2) 934

2D. A Place Prepared (14:2) 936

2E. Future or Realized Eschatology? (14:2–3) 937

3. Jesus as the Way (14:4–6) 939

3A. Background of “the Way” 940

3B. The Claim’s Exclusivism 941

3C. Truth and Life (14:6) 943

Revealing the Father (14:7–14) 943

1. Seeing the Father in Jesus (14:7–9) 944

2. Doing the Father’s Works (14:10–11) 945

3. Disciples Doing the Same Works (14:12–14) 946

3A. The Meaning of “Works” (14:12) 946

3B. Prayer in Jesus’ Name (14:13–14) 947

Jesus’ Coming and Presence by the Spirit (14:15–26) 951

1. Preliminary Questions 951

1A. Structure 951

1B. Theology 952

1C. The Paraclete Passages in Context 953

2. Background of the Paraclete Image 954

2A. Senses Related to Parakale/w 955

2B. Forensic Interpretation of the Paraclete 956

2C. Angelic Advocates and Accusers 957

2D. An Advocate in John 14–16? 961

2E. Divine Wisdom 961

3. The Personality of the Spirit in the Fourth Gospel (14:16–17, 26) 962

3A. Wisdom and the Personal Character of the Paraclete 963

3B. The Spirit’s Personality and Jesus 964

3C. The Spirit as Jesus’ Successor 966

3D. Spirit of Truth (14:17; 15:26; 16:13) 969

4. Coming and Staying (John 14:15–20) 971

4A. The Paraclete Brings Jesus’ Presence (14:16–17) 972

4B. Jesus Comes to Them (14:18) 973

4C. Resurrection Life at Jesus’ Coming (14:19–20) 974

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5. Revelation to the Obedient (14:21–25) 974

6. Teaching Jesus Tradition (14:26) 977

6A. The Spirit as Teacher and Recaller (14:26) 977

6B. Implications for the Fourth Gospel 979

Encouragement for the Disciples (14:27–31) 982

1. Peace in Jesus’ Departure (14:27–29) 982

2. The Coming Prince of the World (14:30) 984

3. Going to the Cross (14:31) 985

Relation to Jesus and the World 988

The Vine and Its Fruitful Branches (15:1–7) 988

1. The Vine Image (15:1) 988

1A. Various Proposed Backgrounds to the Image 990

1B. Israel as a Vine 991

2. The Vinedresser’s Pruning (15:1–3) 993

2A. A Vinedresser’s Attention 994

2B. “Cleansing” (15:2–3) 996

3. Fruit Bearing (15:2, 4–5, 7–8) 997

4. Perseverance or Apostasy (15:6) 998

4A. The Johannine Meaning of “Abiding” 999

4B. Burning Unfruitful Branches 1000

The Love Commandment (15:8–17) 1002

1. God Loves Those Who Keep His Commandments (15:8–11) 1003

2. The Love of Friends (15:12–17) 1004

2A. Dying for Friends (15:13) 1004

2B. Kinds of Friendship in Antiquity 1006

2C. Ancient Ideals of Friendship 1009

2D. Friends of God 1011

2E. Friends, Not Servants (15:15) 1013

2F. Concluding Observations on Friendship 1014

2G. Chosen and Appointed (15:16) 1015

The World’s Hatred (15:18–16:4) 1016

1. Introductory Matters 1016

1A. Part of the Context 1017

1B. The Worldview of the Passage 1017

1C. The Opposition 1018

2. Hating Father, Son, and Followers (15:18–25) 1019

3. Witnesses against the World (15:26–27) 1021

3A. The Spirit Testifies against the World 1022

3B. The Forensic Context 1023

3C. Prophetic Witness 1024

4. Coming Persecution (16:1–4) 1025

4A. Expulsion from Synagogues 1025

4B. Martyrs 1025

4C. Johannine Irony 1027

Revelation of Jesus 1029

His Departure for Their Good (16:5–7) 1029

The World’s Prosecutor (16:8–11) 1030

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

1. Prosecuting the World 1030

2. Background in the Biblical Prophets 1032

3. The Charges 1034

Revealing Jesus to the Disciples (16:13–15) 1035

1. Function in Context 1035

2. Guiding Believers in Truth (16:13) 1036

3. The Paraclete Speaks for Jesus (16:13) 1038

4. Announcing the Coming Matters (16:13) 1039

5. Sharing What Belongs to Jesus (16:14–15) 1041

Meeting Jesus Again (16:16–22) 1043

1. A Little While (16:16–19) 1043

2. Messianic Travail (16:20–22) 1044

Clearer Understanding (16:23–33) 1046

1. Asking in Jesus’ Name (16:23–28) 1046

2. Limited Faith (16:29–33) 1047

Jesus’ Prayer for Disciples 1050

Introductory Issues 1050

Reciprocal Glory of Father and Son (17:1–5) 1052

Prayer for the Disciples (17:6–24) 1055

1. What Belongs to Jesus and the Father (17:6–10) 1056

2. Guarding His Own in the World (17:11–19) 1057

2A. Separation from the World (17:11, 14–19) 1057

2B. The Apostate (17:12) 1058

2C. Their Joy May Be Full (17:13) 1059

2D. God Preserves Believers from the Evil One (17:14–17) 1059

3. Prayer for Unity of Later Disciples (17:20–24) 1061

Conclusion: Making God Known (17:25–26) 1064

The Passion and Resurrection (18:1–20:31)

The Passion 1067

Historical Tradition in the Passion Narrative 1067

1. The Genre of the Passion Narratives 1068

2. The Historical Foundation for the Passion Narratives 1070

3. The High Priests and Jerusalem’s Elite 1073

Betrayal and Arrest (18:1–11) 1076

1. The Setting and Betrayer (18:1–2) 1076

2. The Troops (18:3) 1078

2A. Roman Participation in the Tradition? 1078

2B. Roman Participation and John’s Theology? 1080

2C. Judas’s Responsibility 1081

3. Jesus’ Self-Revelation (18:4–9) 1081

4. Peter’s Resistance (18:10–11) 1082

Priestly Interrogation and Peter’s Denial (18:12–27) 1084

1. Who Was Responsible for Jesus’ Condemnation? 1084

2. Historicity of the Trial Narrative 1085

2A. Violation of Legal Procedures? 1086

2B. Other Evidence 1088

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3. Annas and Caiaphas (18:12–14) 1089

4. Peter’s First Denial (18:15–18) 1090

5. Jesus and the High Priest (18:19–24) 1092

5A. Interrogation and Response (18:19–21) 1093

5B. Abuse of the Prisoner (18:22–24) 1095

6. Peter’s Final Denials (18:25–27) 1096

Pilate’s Inquiry (18:28–38a) 1097

1. The Setting (18:28) 1097

1A. They Came “Early” 1098

1B. The Praetorium and Uncleanness 1099

1C. John’s Passover Chronology 1100

2. Pilate and the Chief Priests (18:29–32) 1103

2A. Pilate’s Historical Involvement 1103

2B. Provincial Politics and Law (18:29–31a) 1104

2C. Capital Jurisdiction (18:31b–32) 1107

3. The Kingdom of Truth (18:33–38a) 1109

3A. Questioning Jesus (18:33–34) 1110

3B. Jesus as King of the Jews (18:33–35) 1111

3C. The Nature of Jesus’ Kingship (18:36–37a) 1112

3D. The Kingdom and Truth (18:37b–38a) 1113

Pilate and the People (18:38b–19:16) 1114

1. Preferring a Terrorist (18:38b–40) 1115

1A. Pilate’s Attempt to Free Jesus (18:38b–39) 1115

1B. The Paschal Amnesty Custom (18:39) 1115

1C. Barabbas, a “Robber” (18:40) 1117

2. Abusing the Prisoner (19:1–3) 1118

2A. The Scourging (19:1) 1118

2B. The Mocking (19:2–3) 1120

3. Rejecting God’s Son (19:4–7) 1123

3A. “Behold the Man” (19:4–5) 1123

3B. The Law and God’s Son (19:6–7) 1124

4. True Authority (19:8–11) 1125

4A. Pilate’s Question and Demand (19:8–10) 1125

4B. Divinely Delegated Authority (19:11) 1126

5. Handing Over the Jewish King (19:12–16) 1127

5A. Pilate’s Political Dilemma (19:12) 1128

5B. The Judgment Seat (19:13) 1129

5C. The Timing (19:14a) 1129

5D. “Behold Your King” (19:14b–15) 1131

5E. Handing Jesus Over (19:16) 1132

Jesus’ Crucifixion (19:17–37) 1133

1. The Crucifixion (19:17–18) 1133

1A. Carrying His Own Cross (19:17a) 1133

1B. Golgotha (19:17b) 1134

1C. Crucifixion (19:18) 1135

2. The Titulus (19:19–22) 1136

3. Dividing Jesus’ Property (19:23–24) 1138

4. The Women at the Cross (19:25–27) 1140

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4A. Women Bystanders (19:25) 1141

4B. Jesus’ Mother (19:26a) 1143

4C. Entrusting His Mother to His Disciple (19:26b–27) 1144

5. Jesus’ Thirst and Death (19:28–30) 1145

5A. Jesus Drinks Sour Wine (19:28–29) 1145

5B. It Is Finished (19:30a) 1147

5C. Handing Over His Spirit (19:30b) 1148

6. Breaking Bones (19:31–37) 1150

6A. The Soldiers Break Bones (19:31–33) 1150

6B. Water from Jesus’ Side (19:34) 1151

6C. The Witness of the Disciple and Scripture (19:35–37) 1154

Jesus’ Burial (19:38–42) 1157

1. Historical Likelihood of the Burial 1157

2. Joseph and Nicodemus (19:38–39) 1158

2A. Joseph and History 1158

2B. Joseph as a Model 1160

2C. Nicodemus 1161

3. Burial Preparations (19:39–40, 42) 1162

4. The Tomb (19:41) 1164

4A. A New Tomb in a Garden 1164

4B. The Site of the Tomb 1165

Jesus’ Resurrection 1167

Historical Questions 1167

1. The Traditions 1167

2. Pagan Origins for the Christian Resurrection Doctrine? 1169

2A. Mystery Cults as Background? 1170

2B. Dying-and-Rising Deities? 1172

2C. Jewish Doctrine of the Resurrection 1175

3. Conclusion: Historicity of the Resurrection Tradition? 1177

Mary at the Tomb (20:1–18) 1178

1. The Empty Tomb (20:1–10) 1178

1A. Mary’s Discovery (20:1–2) 1178

1B. The Missing Body (20:1–7) 1180

1C. The Wrappings (20:5–7) 1182

1D. The Beloved Disciple, Peter, and Scripture (20:2–10) 1183

2. Appearance to Mary (20:11–18) 1185

2A. Resurrection Appearances (20:15–29) 1185

2B. The Angelic Testimony (20:11–13) 1188

2C. Recognizing Jesus (20:14–16) 1189

2D. Mary’s Testimony (20:17–18) 1191

2E. The Ascension (20:17) 1192

2F. Women’s Witness (20:18) 1195

Appearances to the Disciples (20:19–29) 1196

1. Appearance to the Ten (20:19–23) 1196

1A. A Johannine Pentecost? 1196

1B. The Setting (20:19) 1200

1C. Jesus’ Appearance (20:19d-21a) 1201

1D. The Commissioning (20:21) 1203

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1E. Empowerment for the Mission (20:22) 1204

1F. Authority for Forgiveness (20:23) 1206

2. Appearance to Thomas (20:24–29) 1208

2A. Thomas’s Skepticism (20:24–25) 1208

2B. Jesus’ Wounds (20:26–27) 1209

2C. The Climactic Christological Confession (20:28–29) 1210

Conclusion 1213

Many Other Signs 1214

Purpose of the Conclusion 1215

Epilogue (21:1–25)

The Function of John 21 1219

A Later Addition? 1219

Historical Questions 1222

1. Both Galilean and Judean Revelations? 1222

2. Pre- or Postresurrection Tradition? 1222

The Fish Sign 1225

The Setting: Failing at Fishing (21:1–3) 1225

Jesus Provides Fish (21:4–6) 1227

Recognizing and Approaching Jesus (21:7–8) 1228

Jesus Feeds His Sheep (21:9–14) 1230

1. The Banquet 1230

2. The Abundance of Fish (21:11) 1231

The Call 1234

Feed My Sheep (21:15–17) 1234

1. Peter’s Role 1234

2. The Demand of Love 1235

3. Tending the Flock 1236

The Price of Tending Sheep (21:18–19) 1237

The Beloved Disciple’s Future (21:20–23) 1238

The Close of the Gospel 1240

Bibliography 1243

Index of Modern Authors 1411

Index of Subjects 1443

Index of Scripture and Old Testament Apocrypha 1448

Index of Other Ancient Sources 1515

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Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

PREFACE

MY DOCTORAL MENTOR,D.MoodySmith,oncenotedthatolderscholarswhobegan

full-scale John commentaries (like Hoskyns and Haenchen) usually died before

completing them. We joked that I should either not start a John commentary or should do

it while I remained relatively young! I have sought to follow the latter path, at the same

time seeking to honor both the wisdom of the past and to incorporate whatever fresh in-

sights my own studies, especially in the milieu of early Christianity, have provided. If in my

youthful zeal (albeit more youthful when I started than when I finished) I have sometimes

attended more than necessary to details of setting, it is because I believed this attention a

necessary foundation for any more thematic, integrative approach I might undertake in

later years.

Approach. InthiscommentaryIhavefocusedontheareawhereIbelieveIcanmake

the greatest contribution to Johannine studies, in examining the Gospel in light of its

social-historical context. Because the Fourth Gospel is a text, attention to literary and

other issues are both essential and inescapable, but my own contributions of the longest

range value to other researchers will be my supply of specific social data, which in many

cases has not yet been brought to bear on the Gospel, though even here I frequently build

on the general work that has gone before.

Ancient readers were not opposed to explaining cultural data to help their audiences

understand customs (e.g., Mk 7:3–4) and recognized that some earlier works were less

comprehensible because the culture had changed so thoroughly,1that people of different

eras and locations must be evaluated by the customs of their own cultures,2or that the

writer’s own words would be understood only within a circle sharing that writer’s special

information.3Ancient informed readers understood, as do their modern counterparts,

that the more familiar a reader was with the circumstances of a document or speech, the

better the reader could comprehend it (e.g., Quintilian 10.1.22). Our culture is so distant

from that in which John wrote that even deliberate mysteries of the Gospel, such as Jesus’

esoteric speech, become more mysterious than necessary for moderns (who tend to be un-

familiar with ancient sages whose brilliance was sometimes measured by how difficult

their riddles were). We will also ask historical questions regarding the passages that may

yield some data for addressing these matters, especially to specify where John belongs in

the broader generic category in which we place it.

xxv

1Cf., e.g., the reliable commentator Sextus Caecilius in Aulus Gellius 20.1.6.

2E.g., Cornelius Nepos 15 (Epaminondas), 1.1; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 29; cf.

Cornelius Nepos pref. 5–7.

3E.g., 2 Thess 2:5; Phaedrus 3.1.7; 5.10.10; cf. cultural knowledge assumed, e.g., in Philostratus

Hrk. 1.3.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Inemphasizingthisapproach,however,wecannotsimplyignoremattersofthenarra

tive manner in which John wrote, though one should anticipate some differences between

ancient Mediterranean and modern narratives. Some scholars question the value of narra-

tive criticism because “it systematically ignores” the likely prehistory of the Fourth Gos-

pel;4but analysis of the finished Gospel as a whole appears to me far more productive and

less speculative—particularly on this Gospel—than source and redaction criticism. (Ap-

proaching Gospels as cohesive wholes also fits their nature as biographies, as Richard

Burridge has noted.)5Thus while we will mention some source-critical controversies, our

focus will be on the completed Gospel.

Contemporary literary and historical approaches, with their respective intrinsic and

extrinsic concerns, have moved beyond their earlier frequent impasse toward more of a rela-

tionship of mutual benefit.6Both historical and literary approaches have essential contribu-

tions to make; the implied reader assumed in the Gospel was a first-century reader with

specific cultural assumptions.7That is, even if one starts from a purely narrative critical ap-

proach, the text implies a social as well as a narrative world.8Of course, a variety of readings

from social locations other than the earliest ones are possible;9but we focus this commen-

tary on an ancient Mediterranean context, reconstructing insofar as possible John’s message

to his ideal audience in the sort of environment he most likely could have presupposed.

Limitations of This Commentary. The focus of this commentary is the Fourth Gospel

in its cultural context as most broadly defined, that is, the eastern Mediterranean cultural,

social, political, religious, and ancient literary contexts in which the Gospel would have orig-

inally been read. Some reviewers of my earlier commentary on Matthew, while acknowledg-

ing its thorough investigation of the light ancient sources bring to bear on Matthew,

predictably ignored that explicit focus and concentrated their reviews along traditional lines

of liberal or conservative scholarly ideology, or occasionally complaints that they disap-

proved of a focus on social history. Nevertheless, I emphasize that this approach remains my

explicit focus, without the intention of denigrating other scholars’ respective interests.

It is not possible, however, to address fully how the Fourth Gospel would have been

heard in its original contexts without also giving some attention to its intrinsic themes,

style, and literary development. The completed Fourth Gospel functioned for its first audi-

ence and most subsequent audiences as a literary whole, and a piecemeal approach to it vi-

olates the text no less than a culturally and linguistically naïve approach would. Although

the focus of this commentary does not permit the full exploration of the Gospel from the

standpoint of various modern literary techniques, it should be noted that the nature of

thiscommentaryshouldbeviewedascomplementaryto,ratherthaninoppositionto,

most of the literary approaches currently in vogue.

xxvi

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

4Ashton, Studying, 165.

5Burridge, “People,” 127; cf. also Dewey, “Oral-Aural Event,” 145. Some ancient literary critics

also insisted on reading a text’s use of a term on the basis of the author’s usage of the term elsewhere

(e.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.24–25, explaining Virgil Georg. 3.284).

6See McKnight and Malbon, “Introduction,” 18; Donahue, “Hauptstrasse?” 45–48; cf., e.g., the

overlap in sociorhetorical criticism (see Robbins, “Test Case,” 164–71).

7Koester, “Spectrum,” 5–8; cf. this approach for other ancient documents, e.g., in Maclean and

Aitken, Heroikos, lxxxvii–lxxxix. Talbert, “Chance,” 236–39, critiques those who insist on only the

currently dominant form of literary criticism; some also combine narrative and historical criticism

(cf. Motyer, “Method”).

8See O’Day, “Study.”

9See, e.g., Newheart, “Reading”; Segovia, “Conclusion.” Diel and Solotareff, Symbolism, offer a

psychoanalytic perspective.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Although we occasionally draw on social-sciences commentators, our approach is pri-

marily social-historical. We necessarily extrapolate on the basis of models where hard data is

deficient, but anchor as much of our study as possible to extant ancient Mediterranean data.

In emphasizing social history, however, we do not seek to denigrate the important contribu-

tions of the other approaches, especially in the many cases where hard data is lacking.10

Examining the Fourth Gospel’s genre necessarily invites some examination of the de-

gree to which the Gospel is historically reliable for Jesus research. Most scholars (including

myself) agree that John adapts his material more freely than any of the Synoptics. At the

same time, John’s relative lack of overlap with the Synoptics makes the degree of his adap-

tation difficult to examine, beyond the basic questions of the ancient biographical genre

(which included a broad range of literature) into which this Gospel, like the Synoptics, fits.

Given its genre, ancient readers and hearers would be interested in knowing the degree of

correspondence between the Gospel’s portrayal of Jesus and the historical Jesus (although

the intended audience would certainly recognize a correspondence between John’s Jesus

and their risen Lord). That is, where on the continuum of ancient biographies does this

Gospel fit? Thus we must address issues of the historical traditions contained in the Fourth

Gospel at relevant points, primarily where these traditions overlap with the Synoptics.

This exercise can at most establish an approximation of the Gospel’s use of reliable tradi-

tions, however; we lack adequate extant data either to verify or falsify most of the events

claimed on purely historical grounds.

In contrast to the Synoptics, which lend themselves more readily to historical-critical

examination, John weaves his sources together so thoroughly that they usually remain

shrouded behind his completed document; as suggested above, Johannine source theories

lack the objectivity and consequently the higher degree of academic consensus that tend to

surround discussions of the Synoptic sources. While elements of this commentary will

focus on the context of Jesus, a more critical question will be the context of the author and

his readers, who may have lived far away from Judea and as many as six and a half decades

after Jesus’ ministry. Thus, despite our frequent interest in historical traditions in the Gos-

pel, our greater interest is what the Gospel as a whole “meant” to readers in the late first

century, rather than what the traditions behind the Gospel meant.

Because the focus of the commentary is the original contexts of the Fourth Gospel,

it will also focus less on most documentation of secondary modern Johannine scholar-

ship. The volume of bibliographic material on the Fourth Gospel has grown so enor-

mous that it can barely be mastered by any single scholar whose focus is not the sorting

and evaluation of such materials,11 though some scholars, such as Bruce Metzger, Rudolf

Schnackenburg,12 and my doctoral mentor, D. Moody Smith, have made significant

contributions to that end. New Testament Abstracts is an invaluable tool in compiling and

xxvii

Preface

10 Stanton, New People, 85, notes that he uses a social-sciences approach because the social his-

torical approach requires more specific knowledge about the work’s particular social setting, but that

when such information is available, “social history should normally take precedence over sociological

insights.” For concerns in this matter, see, e.g., Holmberg, Sociology and New Testament, 145–57

(pointed out by Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:16 n. 15); Brown, Death, 1:21; Winter, Paul Left Corinth, xiii.

11 Boers, Mountain, 144 n. 1, rightly complains that commentaries overlap considerably and

that fresh readings more than collections of secondary citations are needed. For recent surveys of

scholarship, see Schnelle, “Recent Views”; Smith, “Studies since Bultmann”; Morgen, “Bulletin

Johannique”; Scholtissek, “Survey of Research”; idem, “Neue Wege.”

12 For the development and stance of Johannine research from 1955 to 1977, see Schnacken-

burg, “Entwicklung.”

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

summarizing secondary resources, and has proved essential in providing much of this

commentary’s secondary documentation that may be useful to the reader (especially help-

ful in trying to summarize works since this commentary’s original submission and for

languages I do not read or read quickly). A full compilation of secondary research, how-

ever, would demand the additional collaboration of a team of scholars. While such an

undertaking would be a worthy one, it is not the focus of the present volume.

To admit that the commentary will not focus on secondary scholarship, however, is

not to claim independence from prior scholarship. The notes will indicate dependence on

previous major lines of Johannine studies, and interact especially with questions currently

relevant in the field of John’s historical context. This will be particularly true of classical

Johannine studies influential in this century, especially from the stream of British and

American scholarship of which this commentary is necessarily a part.

Scrupulously avoided, however, has been dependence on earlier compilations of refer-

encessuchasStrack-Billerbeck.Thisispartlybecausethescholarshipencodedinthatvol

ume and those of its predecessors is generally coming to be regarded as out of date and

flawed in some serious respects; extensive use of it would thus be inappropriate for a com-

mentary hoping to gain fresh insight into the Fourth Gospel from ancient sources. Works

such as TDNT have also been minimized for the most part, mainly to focus on fresh in-

sights not available as widely as these works (which most exegetes own). Minimal use has

likewise been made of traditional lexicons and the TLG computer lexicon, although for an

entirely different reason: the Thesaurus linguae graecae computer project is so complete

and valuable that the sorting of Johannine language according to its data would represent

anotherprojectofitsown,analogousinproportionstothisone.Theseresourcesare

widely available, and the interested reader does not need a commentary to pursue them.

My notes acknowledge where any of these sources have been used, and normally where

primary sources have been borrowed from other secondary literature, though I have col-

lected more sources from simply working through ancient material. (The notable excep-

tion has been my use of secondary collections for many inscriptions and papyri, due to the

sheer magnitude of data available in those extant bodies of texts.)

The commentary does not focus on text-critical questions, engaging them only where still

debated matters prove relevant for our interpretation quest. Other works investigate these

matters more thoroughly, and most scholars and students know the sources to consult.13

Itmightseemstrangeforascholarlycommentarytonotethatitisalsonotamedita

tive tool, but after finishing this commentary, I believe such a caveat is appropriate in the

case of this Gospel (as opposed to my previous work on Matthew and current work on

Acts). A Gospel that speaks of “eating” and “drinking” Jesus the way some other ancient

works described consuming divine Wisdom may yield some of its treasures more to the

sort of mystic contemplation of the divine developed in Eastern Orthodox monasticism

than to modern historical critics.14 As deconstructionist Stephen Moore complains, from a

very different perspective, biblical scholars tend to merely “dissect” works rather than feed

on them.15 In the case of the Fourth Gospel, a purely extrinsic approach may well evade

part of how John may have invited his first, most sympathetic, ideal audience to hear him.

xxviii

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

13 Besides the obvious Metzger, Commentary, those interested in Johannine text-critical ques-

tions must consult Ehrman, Fee and Holmes, Text, and may consult a variety of other discussions

(e.g., Delobel, “Papyri”).

14 Contemplation of the divine was known in both Platonist piety (e.g., Maximus of Tyre Or.

11.7–12) and Jewish merkabah mysticism.

15 Moore, “Cadaver,” 270.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Nevertheless, commentaries by virtue of their own genre serve limited purposes, and the

insights from John’s context this commentary seeks to provide may help illumine the text

in ways useful for those who wish to listen to the text more deeply in other ways.

One final limitation is that this commentary does not focus on the history of interpre-

tation. That focus is a valid and important historical pursuit, but represents an inquiry

often quite different from asking what John’s first audience may have heard.16 For ex-

ample, for Irenaeus, the Fourth Gospel provided a worthy tool against gnosticism; he

apparently sought to rescue it from the gnostics who had found it a useful tool supporting

gnosticism. This differs, however, from the likeliest reconstruction of John’s original pur-

pose.LaterChristiansoftenusedJohninananti-Semiticwayfarremoved,ifwehave

understood this Gospel correctly, from how John intended it or how his first audience un-

doubtedly understood it. Christendom owes many apologies to the Jewish community for

misrepresenting and persecuting Jewish people over the centuries. Though we do not have

space to repeat those apologies regularly throughout the commentary, the matter merits

attention here and elsewhere. Nevertheless, I believe that it is the Christian community’s

use of the Fourth Gospel rather than the Gospel or its author themselves which requires

such apology, as I will argue on pages 194–228 in chapter 5 of the introduction.

Nature of the Sources. Unless otherwise indicated, my primary ancient references are

derived from the works cited (either in their original languages or in translation). These

references were first examined in their context and considered with regard to the date of

the documents or sources in which they occur, as well as the probable reliability of their

accurate traditioning before reaching their present form. In most cases I culled my pri-

mary references while reading through the ancient documents in which they appear.

The problem with this approach, of course, is that a commentary is not well suited to a

detailed comment on every source it cites on any given point, and between certainly useful

and certainly useless sources exists a continuum of probable degrees of utility. I have there-

fore cited even more peripheral sources where they might be useful. For instance, the saying

of a fourth-century rabbi may tell us little about the first century, but if the saying reflects by

wayofspecificexampleabroaderculturalwayofthinkingthatobtainedorislikelytohave

obtained in Mediterranean antiquity, this source has been judged worthy of mention.

Readers inclined to make the greatest use of our sources will also be those with the

greatest facility in such sources, or have access to easy guides providing dates for those

sources. Still, it is important to provide several introductory cautions at this point. One is

that some sources are late, and may well reflect Christian influence. Some sources, like the

Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs in Greek, contain at least Christian interpolations and

may have been heavily redacted by Christian traditionaries or editors; at the very mini-

mum, however, they bear accurate witness to earliest Jewish Christianity in a Hellenistic

milieu, which is relevant to the Fourth Gospel. In many of the later “Pseudepigrapha” (an

admittedly amorphous category), the date and Christian influences are uncertain, and it is

sometimes difficult to tell (e.g., Joseph and Asenath) whether there is substantial Christian

influence, or whether the document simply reflects a milieu that deeply affected early

Christian manners of expression.

A similar problem obtains in rabbinic literature. Certain bodies of literature probably

represent earlier discussions than others, for example, Aboth de Rabbi Nathan, and espe-

cially the Mishnah, Tosefta, and Tannaitic Midrashim (Mekilta, Sipra, Sipre on Numbers,

xxix

Preface

16 For work in this area, one may consult the Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, a

new series that Tom Oden is editing for InterVarsity Press.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

and Sipre on Deuteronomy). Other collections, like the Genesis Rabbah, are later but Pales-

tinian and more representative than still later collections like the Babylonian Talmud or

Pesiqta Rabbati; baraitot in later documents tend to reflect earlier tradition than the docu-

ments in which they occur, but are less reliable in general than plainly earlier documents.

(Throughout this commentary we employ “Palestinian” in its standard modern academic

sense for Roman Judea, Galilee, and Samaria.)17 In general, rabbinic scholars concerned to

date traditions will regard an attribution as more reliable if it is closer to the date of the

compilation in which it occurs.

Naturally many traditions excluded from the Mishnah due to its Tendenz or halakic

character surface in later sources, preserved orally or in written collections no longer ex-

tant, yet such traditions are also sometimes confirmed as early by archaeological or

nonrabbinic literary evidence. The degree of reliability is still debated in scholarly Jewish

circles, and will no doubt continue to be debated for years hence. Our introduction to the

life-setting of the Fourth Gospel includes a substantial discussion of our use of rabbinic

texts, a necessary prolegomenon to our dependence on them (where other information is

lacking) in the current academic climate. But in short, we have proceeded on the assump-

tion that some evidence is better than no evidence; yet we also trust that the reader will

take seriously our indications of the difference between “some evidence” and “strong

evidence.”

The rabbinic texts pose another problem, however. The rabbinic perspective in some

respects reflects the perspective of common Judaism in antiquity, but in other respects re-

flects the perspective of a particular community within early Judaism, which only gradu-

ally achieved dominance and never achieved the hegemony over ancient Judaism that its

proponents claimed. (Archaeological evidence testifies to many nonrabbinic customs even

in early Byzantine Palestine.) Because the Fourth Gospel was written very late in the first

century and in contact with Palestine or Palestinian tradition, it stands far more chance,

along with the First Gospel, of interacting with specifically rabbinic-type ideas, than most

first-century Christian writings do. But rabbinic Judaism was neither monolithic nor sta-

ble in its teachings, and the rabbinic texts, like most other Jewish texts cited in this work,

must normally be read as samples of the general milieu in which the Fourth Gospel was

written, rather than exact statements of universal views of the time.

Different primary sources that provide windows into the ancient world each offer

their own problems. All the Dead Sea Scrolls clearly predate even the earliest dating of

John, but, like the rabbis, cannot speak for all of Palestinian Judaism. Josephus represents

the right period and addresses a Greek-speaking audience, but has his own apologetic

Tendenz and aristocratic idiosyncrasies. Philo provides a definite sample of Alexandrian

Jewish aristocratic piety, but he seems to be moving in much higher currents of Hellenistic

philosophic thought than John approaches. First Enoch, Jubilees, the Wisdom of Solomon,

and Sirach all have their own idiosyncrasies, though all are extremely valuable and ade-

quately early sources and, taken together, represent a broad enough sampling of early Jew-

ish piety to enable us to place the Fourth Gospel in a probable early Jewish context.18

xxx

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

17 Feldman, “Palestine,” argues that the designation came into vogue only after 135 B.C.,butis

not averse to using the term (e.g., in Feldman, “Hellenism”). I note this in response to the occasional

reviewer who has alleged that my or others’ terminology likely betrayed a modern political agenda

rather than following convention.

18 Reconstructing a probable milieu by finding ideas in a variety of early Jewish sources func-

tions as “a kind of ‘criterion of multiple attestation,’” as Donaldson notes (Paul and Gentiles, 51).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Other sources for John’s theology and witness could also be considered, but because

they are self-evident and available to everyone who would use this commentary, they are

not emphasized as extensively in this work. It is obvious that John meditated deeply on the

OT, apparently both in its Hebrew and its Greek forms (see below). It is also self-evident

that John was affected by earlier Christian traditions, which are attested in the Synoptics,

in Paul, and elsewhere. (John’s view of Christ as divine Wisdom, for example, is hardly a

late christological development, as some have naïvely argued: it is present in the apparently

pre-Pauline tradition in 1 Cor 1:30 and 8:6.) To a great extent, the contours of early Dias-

pora Jewish Christianity shaped the texture of the Fourth Gospel more eloquently than

other Jewish sources could have, but since these contours can be reconstructed for the

most part from study of the NT documents themselves and hence are already widely avail-

able to modern students of the Fourth Gospel, they are not the heaviest focus of this

present work.

I have attempted to structure this commentary as a compromise between John’s own

structure and the demands of modern outlines. John has major sections that usually break

into smaller units, but the intermediate levels of structure expected in modern outlines

sometimes exist and sometimes do not. Thus, for example, one can break John 21 into

paragraphs like most of the Gospel, but because John 21 must be treated separately from

other major sections, in our outline its paragraphs are treated as if they are divisions

within larger sections (like, for example, lengthy chapters such as John 4 or 6). This is not

true to John’s own structure, in which they remain simply paragraphs; it is mandated by

the necessity of consistency with modern outlines and a commentary’s headings matching

such outlines. The commentary’s outline, then, follows a somewhat unhappy (but prag-

matically workable) compromise between the Gospel’s structure and modern outlines.

I offer the following introduction to and commentary on the Fourth Gospel in the

hope that, like some of its more illustrious predecessors, this work may advance in some

small way the state of Johannine studies.

Acknowledgments. I owe special thanks to Eastern Seminary in Philadelphia for pro-

viding for me as Carl Morgan Visiting Professor of Biblical Studies during the 1996–1997

academic year, when the largest bulk of the writing on this commentary was completed. I

completed and submitted this commentary in 1997, but when unexpected problems in the

editorial process delayed publication, my editor kindly allowed me to add material subse-

quently. Unfortunately, I was by now under deadline for other projects, so the additions do

not reflect fully the publications in Johannine studies during the intervening years (espe-

cially foreign-language works). I am grateful to all those at Hendrickson Publishers who

worked on this project. I also thank Eerdmans Publishing for allowing me to reuse some

material from my 1999 Matthew commentary, especially in the passion narrative.

I am grateful for the opportunity to teach John’s Gospel at Hood Theological Semi-

nary (Salisbury, N.C.) and the Center for Urban Theological Studies (Philadelphia, Pa.),

for the interaction of my students at both institutions, and for the opportunity to interact

on John with Greek exegesis students at Eastern Seminary in the springs of 2000–2002. I

am especially grateful to my mentors in Johannine studies at the successive stages of

my theological education: Benny Aker, Ramsey Michaels, and Moody Smith. Moody’s sup-

port and guidance were essential to the completion of my doctoral work at Duke Univer-

sity in 1991.

xxxi

Preface

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

ABBREVIATIONS

ÁAbod. Zar. ÁAbodah Zarah

ÂAbot R. Nat. ÂAbot de Rabbi Nathan (recensions A and B)

ABR Australian Biblical Review

Achilles Tatius Achilles Tatius Clitophon and Leucippe

Acts John Acts of John

Acts Paul Acts of Paul

ad loc. ad locum, at the place discussed

AE Année épigraphique

Aelian Aelian Nature of Animals (for epistles, see Alciphron in bibliography)

Aelius Aristides Or. Aelius Aristides Oration to Rome

Aeschylus

Cho. Libation-Bearers

Prom. Prometheus Bound

Sept. Seven against Thebes

Suppl. Suppliant Women

AJSR Association for Jewish Studies Review

ANET Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. Edited by J. B.

Pritchard. 3d ed. Princeton, 1969

ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers

ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms

im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase.

Berlin, 1972–

Antonius Diogenes

Thule The Wonders beyond Thule

apGen Genesis Apocryphon

Ap. Jas. Apocryphon of James

Apoc. Ab. Apocalypse of Abraham

Apoc. El. Apocalypse of Elijah

Apoc. Mos. Apocalypse of Moses

Apoc. Pet. Apocalypse of Peter

Apoc. Sedr. Apocalypse of Sedrach

Apoc. Zeph. Apocalypse of Zephaniah

Apocr. Ezek. Apocryphon of Ezekiel

Apocrit. Apocriticon (Porphyry, Against Christians)

Apoll. K. Tyre The Story of Apollonius King of Tyre

Apollonius of Rhodes Apollonius of Rhodes Argonautica

Apos. Con. Apostolic Constitutions and Canons

Appian

C.W. Civil Wars

R.H. Roman History

Apuleius Metam. Apuleius Metamorphoses

AQHT Aqhat Epic

Aram. Aramaic

ÁArak. ÁArakin

xxxiii

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Aratus Phaen. Aratus Phaenomena

Aristophanes Aristophanes

Ach. The Acharnians

Lys. Lysistrata

Aristotle

E.E. The Eudemian Ethics

Gen. Anim. Generation of Animals

Heav. On the Heavens

Mem. Concerning Memory and Recollection

Mete. Meteorology

N.E. The Nicomachean Ethics

Parv. Parva naturalia

Poet. The Poetics

Pol. Politics

Rhet. Art of Rhetoric

Soul On the Soul

ARM.T Archives royales de Mari: Transcriptions et traductions

Arrian Arrian

Alex. Anabasis of Alexander

Ind. Indica

Artemidorus Onir. Artemidorus Daldianus Onirocritica

As. Mos. Assumption of Moses

Ascen. Isa. Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah 6–11

Athenaeus Deipn. Athenaeus Deipnosophists

Athenagoras Athenagoras Plea

Augustine

Cons. Harmony of the Gospels

Ep. Epistulae

Serm. Sermons

Tract. Ev. Jo. Tractates on the Gospel of John

Aulus Gellius Aulus Gellius Attic Nights

AV Authorized Version

b. Babylonian Talmud

B. Bat. Baba Batra

B. Me¥iÁa Baba Me¥iÁa

B. Qam. Baba Qamma

Babrius Babrius Fables

BAR Biblical Archaeology Review

bar. baraita (with rabbinic text)

Bar Baruch

2–4 Bar. 2–4 Baruch

Barn. Barnabas

BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research

B.C.E. Before the Common Era

Bek. Bekorot

Ber. Berakot

BETL Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium

Bik. Bikkurim

BGU Ägyptische Urkunden aus den Königlichen Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin,

Griechische Urkunden. 15 vols. Berlin, 1895–1983

Book of the Dead, Sp. The Book of the Dead (see bibliography), with spell number

ca. circa

Caesar

Alex. W. Alexandrian War

C.W. Civil War

xxxiv

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Gall. W. Gallic War

Callimachus Epigr. Callimachus Epigrams

Cato

Coll. dist. Collection of Distichs

Dist. Distichs

CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly

CD Cairo Genizah copy of the Damascus Document

C.E. Common Era

cent(s). century(ies)

ch(s). chapter(s)

Chariton Chariton Chaereas and Callirhoe

1–2 Chr 1–2 Chronicles

Cicero Cicero

Acad. Academicae quaestiones

Agr. De lege agraria

Amic. De amicitia

Att. Epistulae ad Atticum

Cael. Pro Caelio

Cat. In Catilinam

De or. De oratore

Div. De divinatione

Div. Caec. Divinatio in Caecilium

Fam. Epistulae ad familiares

Fin. De finibus

Inv. De inventione rhetorica

Leg. De legibus

Mil. Pro Milone

Mur. Pro Murena

Nat. d. De natura deorum

Off. De officiis

Opt. gen. De optimo genere oratorum

Or. Brut. Orator ad M. Brutum

Parad. Paradoxa Stoicorum

Part. or. De partitiones oratoriae

Phil. Orationes philippicae

Pis. In Pisonem

Prov. cons. De provinciis consularibus

Quinct. Pro Quinctio

Quint. fratr. Epistulae ad Quintum fratrem

Rab. per. Pro Rabirio perduellionis reo

Rab. post. Pro Rabirio postumo

Resp. De republica

Rosc. Amer. Pro Sexto Roscio Amerino

Rosc. com. Pro Q. Roscio comoedo

Sen. De senectute

Sest. Pro Sestio

Tusc. Tusculanae disputationes

Vat. In Vatinium

Verr. In Verrem

CIG Corpus inscriptionum graecarum. Edited by A. Boeckh. 4 vols. Berlin,

1828–1877

CIJ Corpus inscriptionum judaicarum

CIL Corpus inscriptionum latinarum

1–2 Clem. 1–2 Clement

xxxv

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Clement of Alexandria

Strom. Clement of Alexandria Stromata

Cod. justin. Codex justinianus

Cod. theod. Codex theodosianus

col. column

Col Colossians

Columella

Arb. De arboribus (On Trees)

Rust. Dererustica(OnAgriculture)

1–2 Cor 1–2 Corinthians

Cornelius Nepos Cornelius Nepos Generals

Cornutus Nat. d. Cornutus De natura deorum

Corp. herm. Corpus hermeticum

CPJ Corpus papyrorum judaicorum

Cyn. Ep. The Cynic Epistles: A Study Edition. Edited by Abraham J. Malherbe.

Missoula, Mont., 1977

Dan Daniel

Demetrius Demetrius On Style (De elocutione)

Demosthenes

Ag. Androtion Against Androtion

Crown On the Crown

Ep. Epistles

Or. Oration

Deut Deuteronomy

Deut. Rab. Deuteronomy Rabbah

Did. Didache

Dig. Digest

Dio Cassius R.H. Dio Cassius Roman History

Dio Chrysostom Or. Dio Chrysostom Oration

Diodorus Siculus Diodorus Siculus Bibliotheca historica

Diogenes Laertius Diogenes Laertius Lives of Eminent Philosophers

Diogn. Diognetus

Dionysius of

Halicarnassus

2 Amm. Second Letter to Ammaeus

Demosth. Demosthenes

Isoc. Isocrates

Lit. Comp. Literary Composition

R.A. Roman Antiquities

Thucyd. Thucydides

Disc. Discourses

DSD Dead Sea Discoveries

DSS Dead Sea Scrolls

Eccl Ecclesiastes

Eccl. Rab. Ecclesiastes Rabbah

ÁEd. ÁEduyyot

1–3 En. 1–3 Enoch (2En.has recensions A and J)

Ep. Epistle (Cynic Epistles)

Ep Jer Epistle of Jeremiah

Eph Ephesians

Epictetus

Diatr. Diatribai

Ench. Enchiridion

Epid. inscr. Epidauros inscription

epil. epilogue

xxxvi

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Epiphanius Pan. Panarion (Refutation of All Heresies)

ÁErub. ÁErubin

1Esd 1Esdras

esp. especially

EstBib Estudios bíblicos

Esth Esther

Esth. Rab. Esther Rabbah

Eunapius Lives Eunapius Lives of the Sophists

Euripides

Alc. Alcestis

Andr. Andromache

Bacch. Bacchanals

Cycl. Cyclops

El. Electra

Hec. Hecuba

Heracl. Children of Hercules

Herc. fur. Madness of Hercules

Hipp. Hippolytus

Iph. aul. Iphigeneia at Aulis

Iph. taur. Iphigeneia at Tauris

Orest. Orestes

Phoen. Phoenician Maidens

Suppl. Suppliants

Tro. Daughters of Troy

Eusebius

Hist. eccl. Ecclesiastical History

Praep. ev. Preparation for the Gospel

EvQ Evangelical Quarterly

Exod Exodus

Exod. Rab. Exodus Rabbah

ExpTim Expository Times

Ezek Ezekiel

f(f). and the following one(s)

frg. fragment(s)

Frg. Tg. Fragmentary Targum

Gaius Inst. Gaius Institutes

Gal Galatians

Galen N.F. Galen Natural Faculties

Gen Genesis

Gen. Rab. Genesis Rabbah

Gi¤. Gi¤¤in

Gk. Apoc. Ezra Greek Apocalypse of Ezra

Gorgias Hel. Gorgias Helena

Gos. Pet. Gospel of Peter

Gos. Thom. Gospel of Thomas

Greek Anth. Greek Anthology

Gregory Nazianzus Or. Gregory Nazianzus Orationes

Hab Habakkuk

Hag Haggai

Ïag. Ïagigah

Ïal. Ïallah

Hamm. Code of Hammurabi

Heb Hebrews

Heb. Hebrew

Heliodorus Aeth. Heliodorus Aethiopica

xxxvii

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Heraclitus Ep. Heraclitus Epistle

Herm. Shepherd of Hermas

Mand. Mandate

Sim. Similitude

Vis. Vision

Hermogenes Issues Hermogenes On Issues

Herodian Herodian History

Herodotus Hist. Herodotus Histories

Hesiod

Astron. Astronomy

Op. Works and Days (Opera et dies)

Scut. Shield

Theog. Theogony

Hierocles

Fatherland On Duties. How to Conduct Oneself toward One’s Fatherland

Love On Duties. On Fraternal Love

Marr. On Duties. On Marriage

Parents On Duties. How to Conduct Oneself toward One’s Parents

Hippolytus Haer. Refutation of All Heresies

Hom. Hymn Homeric Hymn

Homer

Il. Iliad

Od. Odyssey

Hor. Horayot

Horace

Carm. Odes

Ep. Epistles

Sat. Satires

Hos Hosea

HTR Harvard Theological Review

HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual

Ïul. Ïullin

Iamblichus Bab. St. Iamblichus (2d cent.) ABabylonianStory

Iamblichus (3d–4th

cents.)

Myst. Mysteries

V.P. Life of Pythagoras

IEJ Israel Exploration Journal

IG Inscriptiones graecae

IGLS Inscriptions grecques et latines de la Syrie

Ign. Ignatius

Eph. Epistle to the Ephesians

Magn. Epistle to the Magnesians

Phld. Epistle to the Philadelphians

Rom. Epistle to the Romans

Smyrn. Epistle to the Smyrnaeans

Trall. Epistle to the Trallians

IGRR Inscriptiones graecae ad res romanas pertinentes

IIt. Inscriptiones Italiae

ILS Inscriptiones latinae selectae. Edited by Dessau

Incant. Text Incantation text from corpus of Aramaic incantation texts. See bibliog-

raphy, Isbell, Bowls.

intr. introduction

Irenaeus Haer. Irenaeus Against Heresies

Isa Isaiah

xxxviii

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Isocrates

Ad Nic. To Nicocles (Or. 2)

Demon. To Demonicus

Nic. Nicocles (Or. 3)

Or. Oration

Panath. Panathenaicus

Paneg. Panegyricus

Peace On the Peace

Jas James

JBL Journal of Biblical Literature

Jdt Judith

JE TheJewishEncyclopedia.Edited by I. Singer. 12 vols. New York, 1925

Jer Jeremiah

Jerome

Comm. Gal. Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians

Pelag. Dialogues against the Pelagians

JETS Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society

JJS Journal of Jewish Studies

John Chrysostom

Hom. Jo. Homilies on St. John

Hom. Matt. Homilies on St. Matthew

Jos. Asen. Joseph and Aseneth1

Josephus

Ag. Ap. Against Apion

Ant. Jewish Antiquities

Life The Life

War Jewish War

Josh Joshua

JQR Jewish Quarterly Review

JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman

Periods

JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament

JSP Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha

JTS Journal of Theological Studies

Jub. Jubilees

Judg Judges

Julius Africanus Arist. Julius Africanus Letter to Aristides

Justin

1 Apol. First Apology

2Apol. SecondApology

Dial. Dialogue with Trypho

Justinian Inst. Justinian Institutes

Juvenal Sat. Juvenal Satires

Ker. Keritot

Ketub. Ketubbot

1–2 Kgs 1–2 Kings

Kil. KilÂayim

Kip. Kippurim (Tosefta)

KJV King James Version

KRT Keret Epic

L.A.B. Liber antiquitatum biblicarum (Pseudo-Philo)

Lad. Jac. Ladder of Jacob

xxxix

Abbreviations

1I list double enumerations where the OTP translation (listed first) and the standard Greek

text differ.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

L.A.E. Life of Adam and Eve

Lam. Rab. Lamentations Rabbah

Lat. Latin

LCL Loeb Classical Library

Let. Aris. Letter of Aristeas

Lev Leviticus

Lev. Rab. Leviticus Rabbah

lit. literally

Liv. Pro. Lives of the Prophets2

Livy Livy Annals of the Roman People

Longinus Subl. Longinus On the Sublime

Longus Longus Daphnis and Chloe

Lucan C.W. Lucan Civil War

Lucian

Abdic. Disowned

Alex. Alexander the False Prophet

[Asin.] Lucius, or The Ass

Hist. How to Write History

Peregr. The Passing of Peregrinus

Philops. The Lover of Lies

Somn. The Dream, or Lucian’s Career

Syr. d. The Goddess of Syria

Lucretius Nat. Lucretius De rerum natura

LXX Septuagint

Lycophron Alex. Lycophron Alexandra

Lysias Or. Lysias Oration

m. Mishnah

MaÁaÛ. MaÁaÛerot

MaÁaÛ. Š. MaÁaÛer Šeni

Macc Maccabees (1–4 Maccabees)

Macrobius

Comm. Commentarius

Sat. Saturnalia

Mak. Makkot

Makš. Makširin

Mal Malachi

Marcus Aurelius Marcus Aurelius Meditations

Mart. Pol. Martyrdom of Polycarp

Martial Epigr. Martial Epigrams

Matt Matthew

Maximus of Tyre Or. Maximus of Tyre Oration

Meg. Megillah

MeÁil. MeÁilah

Mek. Mekilta (ed. Lauterbach)

ÁAm. ÁAmalek

Bah. Bahodeš

Beš. Bešallah

Nez. Neziqin

Šab. Šabbata

Šir. Širata

Vay. VayassaÂ

MenaŒ. MenaŒot

Mic Micah

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

2Cited first by OTP reference, then by the enumeration in Schermann’s Greek text.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Mid. Middot

Midr. Pss. Midrash on Psalms (Tehillim)

Miqw. MiqwaÂot

MoÂed Qa¤. MoÂed Qa¤an

MSS some manuscripts

MT Masoretic Text

Murat. Canon Muratorian Canon

n(n). note(s)

Nah Nahum

NASB New American Standard Bible

Naz. Nazir

NEB New English Bible

Ned. Nedarim

Neg. NegaÁim

Neh Nehemiah

Nestle-Aland Novum Testamentum Graece, Nestle-Aland

Nez. Neziqin

NHL The Nag Hammadi Library in English. Edited by James M. Robinson.

San Francisco, 1977

Nid. Niddah

NIDNTT New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology. Edited by C.

Brown. 4 vols. Grand Rapids, 1975–1985

Nin. Rom. The Ninus Romance (see Longus in bibliography)

NIV New International Version

NovT Novum Testamentum

NRSV New Revised Standard Version

NS New Series

NT New Testament

NTS New Testament Studies

Num Numbers

Num. Rab. Numbers Rabbah

Odes Sol. Odes of Solomon

OGIS Orientis graeci inscriptiones selectae

ÂOhal. ÂOhalot

Or. Oration

Origen

Cels. Against Celsus

Comm. Jo. Commentary on John

Comm. Matt. Commentary on Matthew

Hom. Exod. Homilies on Exodus

OT Old Testament

OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by J. H. Charlesworth. 2 vols.

Garden City, N.Y., 1983–1985

Ovid

Her. Heroides

Metam. Metamorphoses

p. Palestinian (Jerusalem) Talmud

par. parallel, paragraph(s)

Parthenius

L.R. Love Romance

Paul and Thecla Acts of Paul and Thecla

Pausanias Pausanias Description of Greece

P.Beatty Chester Beatty Papyri

P.Bour. Papyrus Bouriant

xli

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

P. C a i r. M a s p . Catalogue des antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Caire: Papyrus grecs

d’époque byzantine, vols. 1–3. Edited by J. Maspero

P.Cair.Zen. Catalogue des antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Caire: Zenon Papyri,

vols. 1–4. Edited by C. C. Edgar

P. C o l . Pa p y r u s C o lu m b i a

PDM Papyri demoticae magicae. Demotic texts in PGM corpus as collated in

The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, Including Demotic Spells. Ed-

ited by H. D. Betz. Chicago, 1996

P.Eleph. Elephantine Papyri

P.Enteux. Enteuxeis Papyri

PEQ Palestine Exploration Quarterly

Persius Sat. Persius Satires

PesaŒ. PesaŒim

Pesiq. Rab. Pesiqta Rabbati

Pesiq. Rab Kah. Pesiqta de Rab Kahana

Sup. Supplement

1–2 Pet 1–2 Peter

Petronius Sat. Petronius Satyricon

P.Giess. Griechische Papyri zu Giessen. Edited by E. Kornemann, O. Eger, and P.

M. Meyer

PGM Papyri graecae magicae: Die griechischen Zauberpapyri. Edited by K.

Preisendanz. Berlin, 1928

P. G r e n f . Greek Papyri. Edited by B. P. Grenfell and A. S. Hunt

P.Gu r. Greek Papyri from Gurob. Edited by J. G. Smyly

Phaedrus Phaedrus Fables

P.Hal. Halle Papyri

P.Hib. Hibeh Papyri

Phil Philippians

Philo

Abraham On the Life of Abraham

Agriculture On Agriculture

Alleg. Interp. Allegorical Interpretation

Cherubim On the Cherubim

Confusion On the Confusion of Tongues

Congr. De congressu eruditionis gratia

Contempl. Life On the Contemplative Life

Creation On the Creation of the World

Decalogue On the Decalogue

Dreams 1, 2 On Dreams 1, 2

Drunkenness On Drunkenness

Embassy On the Embassy to Gaius

Eternity On the Eternity of the World

Flaccus Against Flaccus

Flight On Flight and Finding

Giants On Giants

Good Person Every Good Person Is Free

Heir Who Is the Heir?

Hypoth. Hypothetica

Joseph OntheLifeofJoseph

Migration On the Migration of Abraham

Moses 1, 2 OntheLifeofMoses1, 2

Names On the Change of Names

Planting On Planting

Posterity On the Posterity of Cain

Prelim. Studies On the Preliminary Studies

xlii

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Providence 1, 2 On Providence 1, 2

QE, 1, 2 Questions and Answers on Exodus, 1, 2

QG 1, 2, 3, 4 Questions and Answers on Genesis 1, 2, 3, 4

Rewards On Rewards and Punishments

Sacrifices On the Sacrifices of Cain and Abel

Sobriety On Sobriety

Spec. Laws 1, 2, 3,

4On the Special Laws 1, 2, 3, 4

Unchangeable That God Is Unchangeableness

Virtues On the Virtues

Worse That the Worse Attacks the Better

Philostratus

Ep. Epistles

Hrk. Heroikos

Vit. Apoll. Vita Apollonii

Vit. soph. Vitae sophistarum

Phlm Philemon

Pindar

Nem. Nemean Odes

Ol. Olympian Odes

Pyth. Pythian Odes

Pirqe R. El. Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer

Piska PesaŒim (Tosefta tractate)

Plato

Alc. Alcibiades

Apol. Apology of Socrates

Charm. Charmides

Crat. Cratylus

Leg. Laws

Parm. Parmenides

Rep. Republic

Symp. Symposium

Theaet. Theaetetus

Tim. Timaeus

Pliny

Ep. Pliny the Younger Epistles

Nat. Pliny the Elder Natural History

Pan. Pliny the Younger Panegyricus

P. L o n d . Greek Papyri in the British Museum. Edited by F. G. Kenyon and H. I.

Bell

Plotinus Enn. Plotinus Ennead

Plutarch

Alex. Alexander

Alc. Alcibiades

Apoll. Consolation to Apollonius

Borr. That We Ought Not to Borrow

Bride Advice to Bride and Groom

Cam. Camillus

Cic. Cicero

Cleverness Cleverness of Animals

Consol. Consolation to His Wife

Cor. Marcius Coriolanus

Demosth. Demosthenes

Dinner Dinner of the Seven Wise Men

D.V. On the Delays of the Divine Vengeance

xliii

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Educ. The Education of Children

Exile On Exile

Flatterer How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend

Fort.Alex. OntheFortuneortheVirtueofAlexander

Fort. Rom. Fortune of Romans

Gen. of Soul Generation of the Soul in the Timaeus

G.Q. The Greek Questions

G.R.P.S. Greek and Roman Parallel Stories

Isis Isis and Osiris

Lect. On Lectures

L.S. Love Stories

Many Friends On Having Many Friends

Moon Concerning the Face Which Appears in the Orb of the Moon

Mor. Moralia

Mus. On Music

Nat. Q. Natural Questions

Obsol. Obsolescence of Oracles

O.M.P.A. Old Men in Public Affairs

Oracles at Delphi Oracles at Delphi No Longer Given in Verse

Plat. Q. Platonic Questions

Pleas. L. That Epicurus Actually Makes a Pleasant Life Impossible

Poetry How the Young Man Should Study Poetry

Praising On Praising Oneself Inoffensively

Profit by Enemies How to Profit by One’s Enemies

Rom. Romulus

R.Q. The Roman Questions

S.K. Sayings of Kings and Commanders

S.R. Sayings of Romans

S.S. Sayings of Spartans

S.S.W. Sayings of Spartan Women

Statecraft Precepts of Statecraft

Stoic Cont. Stoic Self-Contradictions

Superst. Superstition

Them. Themistocles

T.T. Table Talk

Uned. R. To an Uneducated Ruler

Virt. Virtue and Vice

Vit. Parallel Lives

W.V.S.C.U. Whether Vice Be Sufficient to Cause Unhappiness

Pol. Phil. Polycarp To the Philippians

Polybius Polybius History of the Roman Republic

Porphyry

Ar. Cat. On Aristotle’s Categories

C. Chr. Against the Christians

Marc. To Marcella

V.P. Life of Pythagoras

P.Oxy. Papyrus Oxyrhynchus

P. Pa r i s Les Papyrus grecs du Musée du Louvre. Edited by W. Brunet de Presle

and E. Egger

P.Pet. Flinders Petrie Papyri

Pr. Jos. Prayer of Joseph

Pr. Man. Prayer of Manasseh

pref. preface

prol. prologue

Propertius Eleg. Propertius Elegies

xliv

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Prov Proverbs

P. R y l . Catalogue of the Greek Papyri in the Rylands Library. Edited by A. S.

Hunt,J.deM.Johnson,andV.Martin

Ps Psalm

Ps.- Pseudo-

P.Sakaon Sakaon Papyri

P.S.I. Papiri della Società Italiana. Edited by G. Vitelli et al.

Ps.-Callisthenes Alex. Pseudo-Callisthenes Alexander Romance

Ps.-Clem. Pseudo-Clementines

Ps.-Phoc. Pseudo-Phocylides

Pss. Sol. Psalms of Solomon

P.Strassb. Strassburg Papyri

P.Te bt. The Tebtunis Papyri. EditedbyB.P.Grenfell,A.S.Hunt,J.G.Smyly,and

E. J. Goodspeed

P. T h e a d . Papyrus de Théadelphie. Edited by P. Jouguet

Ptolemy Tetr. Ptolemy Tetrabiblos.

Pyth. Sent. The Pythagorean Sentences

Q Quelle (hypothetical common source for Matt and Luke)

1QapGen Qumran Genesis Apocryphon

1QH Qumran Thanksgiving Hymns

1QM Qumran War Scroll

1QpHab Qumran Pesher (commentary) on Habakkuk

1QS Qumran Rule of the Community (Manual of Discipline)

1QSa Appendix A (Rule of the Congregation)to1QS

4Q285 Qumran Sefer ha-MilŒamah

11QT Qumran Temple Scroll

Qidd. Qiddušin

Quintilian Quintilian Institutes of Oratory

RB Revue biblique

rec. recension

Rev Revelation

Rev. Laws Revenue Laws of Ptolemy Philadelphus. Edited by B. P. Grenfell and J. P.

Mahaffy (cited in Sel. Pap.)

RevQ Revue de Qumran

RevScRel Revue des sciences religieuses

Rhet. ad Herenn. Rhetorica ad Herennium

Rhet. Alex. Rhetorica ad Alexandrum

RivB Rivista biblica italiana

Rom Romans

Roš Haš. Roš Haššanah

Ruth Rab. Ruth Rabbah

RV Revised Version

Šabb. Šabbat

Sallust

Catil. War with Catiline

Jug. War with Jugurtha

1–2 Sam 1–2 Samuel

Sanh. Sanhedrin

SB Sammelbuch griechischer Urkunden aus Ägypten, vols. 1–. Edited by F.

Preisigke et al., 1915–

Šeb. ŠebiÁit

Šebu. ŠebuÁot

SEG Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum

Sel. Pap. Select Papyri. Edited by Hunt and Edgar

Sem. Semaÿot

xlv

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Seneca

Apocol. Seneca the Younger Apocolocyntosis

Benef. Seneca the Younger On Benefits

Consol. Seneca the Younger De consolatione

Controv. Seneca the Elder Disputes

Dial. Seneca the Younger Dialogues

Ep. Lucil. Seneca the Younger Epistles to Lucilius

Nat. Seneca the Younger Naturales quaestiones

Sent. Sext. Sentences of Sextus

Šeqal. Šeqalim

Sextus Empiricus

Eth. Against the Ethicists

Pyr. Outlines of Pyrrhonism

Sib. Or. Sibylline Oracles

SIG Sylloge inscriptionum graecarum. Edited by W Dittenberger. 4 vols. 3d

ed. Leipzig, 1915–1924

Sim. Similitudes of Enoch (1Enoch37–71)

sing. singular

Sipra

A.M. ÂAŒarê Mot

Behor Behor

Behuq. Behuqotai

Emor Emor

Mes. Mesora

Neg. NegaÁim

par. parashah

pq. pereq

Qed. Qedošim

Sav Sav

Sav M.D. Sav Mekhilta DeMiluim

Sh. Shemini

Sh. M.D. Shemini Mekhilta deMiluim

Taz. Tazria

VDDeho. Vayyiqra Dibura Dehobah

VDDen. Vayyiqra Dibura Denedabah

Sipre Deut. Sipre on Deuteronomy

Sipre Num. Sipre on Numbers

Sir Sirach (Ecclesiasticus)

SJT Scottish Journal of Theology

Song Song of Songs (Song of Solomon, Canticles)

Song Rab. Song of Solomon Rabbah

Sophocles

Ant. Antigone

El. Electra

Oed. col. Oedipus at Colonus

Oed. tyr. Oedipus the King

Phil. Philoctetes

Trach. Women of Trachis

Stobaeus Ecl. Stobaeus Eclogues (= Anthology 1–2)

Strabo Geog. Strabo Geography

Suetonius

Aug. Augustus

Calig. Caligula

Gramm. De grammaticis

Dom. Domitian

xlvi

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Tib. Tiberius

Vesp. Vespasian

Sup. Supplement(s)

Sus Susanna

s.v. sub verbo, under the word

Syr. Did. Syriac Didaskalia

Syr. Men. Sentences of the Syriac Menander

Syr. Men. Epit. Syriac Menander Epitome

t. Tosefta

T. 12 Patr. Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs

T. Ab. Testament of Abraham (Rec.A,B)

T. Adam Testament of Adam

T. Ash. Testament of Asher

T. Benj. Testament of Benjamin

T. Dan Testament of Dan

T. Iss. Testment of Issachar

T. Job Testament of Job

T. Jos. Testament of Joseph

T. Jud. Testament of Judah

T. Levi Tetament of Levi

T. Mos. Testament of Moses

T. Naph. Testament of Naphtal

T. Reu. Testament of Reuben

T. Sim. Testament of Simeon

T. Sol. Testament of Soloman

T. Zeb. Testament of Zebulun

TaÁan. Ta Áanit

Taci tus

Ann. Annals

Hist. History

Tanÿ. Tanÿuma

Tatian Oration to the Greeks

TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by G. Kittel and G.

Friedrich. Translated by G. W. Bromley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids,

1964–1976

»ehar. »eharot

Tem. Temurah

Ter. Terumot

Te r tu l l ia n

Apol. Apology

Bapt. Baptism

Spec. The Shows (De Spectaculis)

Tg. 1 Chr. Targum 1 Chronicles

Tg. Eccl. Targum Ecclesiastes

Tg. Esth. Targum Esther

Tg. Hos. Targum Hosea

Tg. Isa. Targum Isaiah

Tg. Jer. Targum Jeremiah

Tg. Job Targum Job

Tg. Jon. Targum Jonathan

Tg. Mic. Targum Micah

Tg. Neof. Targum Neofiti

Tg. Onq. Targum Onqelos

Tg. Qoh. Targum Qoheleth

Tg. Ps.-J. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan

xlvii

Abbreviations

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Tg. Song Targum Song of Solomon

Tg. Yer. Jerusalem Targum

Theon Progymn. Theon Progymnasmata

Theophilus Theophilus To Autolycus

Theophrastus

Caus. plant. De causis plantarum

Char. Characteres

1–2 Thess 1–2 Thessalonians

Thucydides Thucydides History of the Peloponnesian War

1–2 Tim 1–2 Timothy

Tit Titus

Tob Tobi t

trans. translated by, translation

Treat. Shem Treatise of Shem

UBS The Greek New Testament, United Bible Societies

Ulpian Dig. Ulpian Digests

UT Ugaritic Tablets

Valerius Flaccus Valerius Flaccus Argonautica

Valerius Maximus Valerius Maximus Facta et dicta memorabilia

Varro L.L. Var ro On the Latin Language

Virgil

Aen. Aeneid

Catal. Catalepton

Ecl. Eclogues

Georg. Georgics

Priap. Priapea

Vitruvius Arch. Vitruvius On Architecture

vs. versus

W. Chrest. U. Wilcken, Chrestomathie

Wis Wisdom of Solomon

WTJ Westminster Theological Journal

WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament

Xenophon

Anab. Anabasis

Apol. Apologia Socratis

Cyr. Cyropaedia

Hell. Hellenica

Mem. Memorabilia

Oec. Oeconomicus

Symp. Symposium

Xenophon Eph. Xenophon of Ephesus An Ephesian Tale

Yad. Yad ay i m

Yal. Isa. Yalqu¤ on Isaiah

Yebam. Yebamot

ZebaŒ. ZebaŒim

Zech Zechariah

Zeph Zephaniah

ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft

ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der

älteren Kirche

xlviii

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John



INTRODUCTION

We must investigate some basic introductory questions concerning the Fourth Gospel

beforeweexaminethetextindetail.Someissues,suchasgenreandthedocument’slife-

setting, will substantially affect the way we read the Fourth Gospel’s narrative (e.g.,

whether as a transcript of events, pure symbolism, or something in between). Other issues,

such as authorship, may contribute to a discussion of the Johannine tradition’s reliability

but are otherwise less relevant to the interpretation of the Fourth Gospel; we will examine

them after investigating genre and formal considerations, but they are less clear and less es-

sential to this commentary’s primary objective.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

1. GENRE AND HISTORICAL CONSIDERATIONS

THE GENRE OF A WORK is its literary “type” or category; the genre’s frequent, hence antici-

pated, characteristics guide how informed readers will approach it. By conforming in

some measure to generic patterns already present in the culture, a writer produces certain

expectations in the readers of the work.1Although genres as categories are necessarily

fluid, identifying the genre can reveal important purposes the author or authors had in

seeking to communicate to an intended audience. The idea that genre affects interpreta-

tion would have made sense to the first readers of the Gospels,2since Greek writers also

distinguished various categories for literary forms.3Of the diverse models for genre criti-

cism in antiquity, Aristotle’s prevailed longest.4Although they articulated distinctions,

however, in practice ancient writers regularly mixed genres.5

Although many current theories of interpretation reject the priority of the author’s

intention, most recognize it as at least one level of meaning, especially for readers with his-

torical interest.6Many critics regard the author’s intention as unrecoverable; but all

historical endeavor is necessarily conditioned by probability, and we may make probable

inferences about the implied author from the text’s literary strategies in their historical

context. As Burridge notes, “the purpose of the author is essential to any concept of genre

as a set of expectations or contract between the author and the reader or audience.”7Writ-

ers such as those who produced the Gospels sought “to communicate with intended read-

ers,” a purpose that helped determine the text as we have it, whatever our subsequent

purposes in utilizing the text.8The kind of “meaning” one pursues will depend to a

great extent on one’s goal in interpretation, but the historical goal of recovering how the

implied readers of a document in its earliest historical context would have approached the

1Cf. Shuler, Genre, 25–28; Hirsch, Interpretation, 68–126.

2Although the Gospels were probably “heard” more often than “read,” at least aristocratic au-

diences could be described by ancient writers as their “readers” (e.g., Polybius 9.2.6).

3E.g., Theon Progymn. 2.5–33; even different genres of speeches require different kinds of

styles (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Demosth. 45–46); see also the ancient division of Pindar’s various

kinds of hymns and songs (Race, “Introduction,” 1). Of course, such categories were never strictly

observed even in Greco-Roman texts, and Israelite-Jewish tradition rarely reflected on the theoreti-

cal categories (Aune, Environment, 23). Mixed genres were common in the early imperial period

(idem, “Problem,” 10–11, 48).

4Burridge, Gospels, 27–29.

5Ibid., 33–34, 56–61.

6Certainly ancient writers debated about intention, both regarding deeds and legislative pur-

pose (see Hermogenes Issues 61.16–18; 66.12–13; 72.14–73.3).

7Burridge, Gospels, 125. See Ashton, Understanding, 113.

8See Kurz, Reading Luke-Acts, 173, also noting the extrinsic reality of this author and audience

regardless of our ability to reconstruct them.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

document is inseparable from attempts to reconstruct the work’s genre and the strategies

of the implied author in that historical context.9

Proposals concerning Gospel Genre

Readers from the mid-second century through most of the nineteenth century viewed

the Gospels as biographies of some sort. This view prevailed until Votaw in 1915,10 when

the Gospels’ differences from modern biography led most scholars to seek a new classifica-

tion for them.11 Thus Burton Mack claims that in the early twentieth century scholars real-

ized “that the gospels were not biographies and that they sustained a very problematic

relation to history.”12

The twentieth century generated a variety of proposals,13 some of which have

proved less helpful than others. If identifying a document’s generic category guides the

way the reader interprets it, the earlier standard classification of the NT gospels as

“unique”14 is not very helpful. Most works, including other Greco-Roman documents,

are “unique” in some sense.15 Even though the four canonical gospels are closer to

one another than they are to any other documents of antiquity,16 each is also distinct

from the others,17 and all fit into a broader category of narrative.18 While it is true

that the Gospels tell a unique story, and borrow biblical narrative techniques from

their Jewish tradition, Jewish Christian readers would have been most familiar with co-

herent literary works concerning primary characters in terms of Hellenistic “lives,” or

ancient biographies.19

INTRODUCTION

9See, e.g., Allison, Moses, 3. If various authorial or redactional levels complicate the question of

“authorial intention” in John (Smith, John [1999], 13), we mean the level of our completed Gospel

in our earliest textual tradition, which we believe remained well within the range of earlier

Johannine theology.

10 Stanton, Gospels, 15–17.

11 Talbert, Gospel, 2–3, observing that Strauss, Bultmann (see Bultmann, Tradition, 372), and

their followers rejected the biographical category because they confused the two.

12 Mack, Myth, 16 n. 6; cf. Marxsen, Mark, 16.

13 For a fuller survey, see Burridge, Gospels, 3–25.

14 W. Schneemelcher in Hennecke, Apocrypha, 1:80; Riesenfeld, Tradition, 2; Guelich, “Genre.”

The designation “Gospels” appears to date from the mid-second century (Aune, Environment, 18,

cites Justin Dial. 10.2; 100.1; Irenaeus Haer. 3.1.1; Clement of Alexandria Stromata 1.21), though

some derive it from Mark’s (Kelber, Story, 15) or Matthew’s usage (Stanton, New People, 14–16) and

it probably has antecedents in the LXX use of the term (Stuhlmacher, “Theme,” 19–25; Betz,

“Gospel”).

15 Cf. Robbins, Teacher, 4–5.

16 So rightly Borchert, John, 29–30 (though noting differences between John and the Synoptics,

p. 37).

17 Marxsen, Mark, 150, thus objects to applying Mark’s term “Gospel”to Matthew and Luke, ar-

guing that Matthew is a collection of “gospels” and sermons (pp. 150 n. 106; 205–6), and Luke a “life

of Jesus” (150 n. 106). He is uncomfortable with the language of a Gospel “genre” (25).

18 Aune, Environment, 83, cites Quintilian 2.42; Cicero Inv. 1.27; Sextus Empiricus Against

the Professors 1.263–264 for the three major categories (history, fiction, and myth or legend),

though noting that they overlapped in practice (Strabo Geog. 1.2.17, 35); for distinctions between

mythography and history proper, see Fornara, Nature of History, 4–12.

19 Luz, Matthew, 1:44–45.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

1. Folk Literature or Memoirs?

No more helpful or accurate is the suggestion that the Gospels represent Kleinliteratur,

that is, popular or “folk literature”of the lower classes in contrast to the stylish, sophisticated

literature of the upper classes.20 While the Gospels’ oral sources were naturally transmitted

in such a folk milieu, such forced categories prove unhelpful for genre criticism of the Gos-

pels; they ignore the continuum between “folk literature” and the more stylish rhetoric and

texts that strongly influenced them,21 as well as differences among the Gospels themselves

(Luke represents a much more rhetorically sophisticated author than Mark).22 Specific genre

categories like “biographies” actually appear throughout the continuum (e.g., contrast the

popular Life of Aesop with the more literary Agricola).

The Gospels’ sources may well include collections of “memoirs”23 (perhaps “Q” may

be understood in such terms),24 the sort that could constitute “folk” biographies. Some

second-century Christian writers25 viewed the Gospels—alongside other apostolic works—

as “memoirs,” probably recalling Xenophon’s Memorabilia, a “life” of Socrates. Their use of

this term provides attestation that, from an early period, some saw the Gospels as a form of

biography.26 A common general pattern does exist, but the canonical gospels may repre-

sent a different kind of biography from most collections of memoirs; they are complete lit-

erary narratives and not simply “folk” biographies, as most such collections would be.27

In their present form the Gospels are relatively polished and intricate works, as liter-

ary critics have skillfully demonstrated. Such literary preparation is to be expected for

writers in a Greco-Roman context. Ancient speechwriters, for instance, were expected to

premeditate their works carefully, arranging the material in advance and fixing it in their

memories, so that they needed add only finishing touches once they set out to write their

speeches.28 Similarly, writers of Greek and Latin narratives typically began with a rough

draft before producing their final work;29 Jewish writers in Greek could do the same.30 The

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

20 This view was proposed by K. L. Schmidt, who provided analogies among later folk litera-

tures of various cultures. He is followed by Kümmel, Introduction, 37; cf. Hunter, Message, 30;

Deissmann, Light, 466.

21 Downing, “Literature”; Aune, Environment, 12, 63; Burridge, Gospels, 11, 153. Rhetorical

principles influenced narrative techniques; see, e.g., Dowden, “Apuleius.”

22 Koester, Introduction, 1:108; Kodell, Luke, 23; cf. Perry, Sources, 7. This is not to mention

Luke’s architectonic patterns (for which see Goulder, Acts; Talbert, Patterns; idem, Luke; Tannehill,

Luke).

23 E.g., Socratics Ep. 18, Xenophon to Socrates’ friends. Diogenes Laertius includes compila-

tions of traditions, but from a variety of sources.

24 Cf.Papiasfrg.6(EusebiusHist. eccl. 3.39), on the hypothesis that Papias’s “Matthew” is our

“Q” (cf. Filson, History, 83; rejected by Jeremias, Theology, 38). Downing, “Like Q,” compares Q with

a Cynic “Life” (cf. Mack, Lost Gospel, 46); contrast Tuckett, “Q.”

25 Justin 1Apol.66.3; 67.3; Dial. 103.8; 106.3 (see Stanton, New People, 62–63; Abramowski,

“Memoirs,” pace Koester).

26 See Robbins, Teacher, 62–67; Stanton, New People, 62–63.

27 This is not to deny the Synoptics’ substantial dependence on tradition, but tradition is not so

dominant (as Jones, Parables, 36, seems to suggest) as to prohibit pursuit of literary coherence.

28 Quintilian 10.6.1–2. One should also be ready to add improvisations during the speech

(10.6.5).

29 Cf., e.g., the opening Virgilic lines of the Aeneid removed by the final editors (LCL

1:240–241, esp. n. 1).

30 Aune, Environment, 128. Thus Josephus thoroughly revised an earlier draft of the War

into better Greek (Ag. Ap. 1.49–50); some think the earlier version was an Aramaic draft, probably

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Gospels are thus undoubtedly polished products of much effort, carefully arranged to

communicate their points most adequately.31

The writers of the Synoptics, like writers of most ancient historical works, probably

began with a basic draft of the material in chronological order, to which a topical outline,

speeches, and other rhetorical adjustments would be added later.32 It was not, however,

usually appropriate to “publish” the work in an unfinished form; one would complete the

book, check copyists’ manuscripts when possible, and then give the first copy to the

dedicatee when appropriate (Cicero Att. 13.21a, 23, 48).33 Aristotle recommended sketch-

ing the plot in outline, then expanding by inserting episodes, and illustrates this with the

Odyssey.34 Like other Greek writers, Luke follows one source at a time, incorporating a

large block of Q material into Mark;35 both Luke and Matthew make Mark the backbone,

and supplement Mark from other sources.36 John’s adjustments toward rhetorical sophis-

ticationmayinsomerespectsbelesselaboratethaneventhoseofMark.Dependingonthe

circumstances, some ancient observers could view incorporating preexisting lines as pla-

giarism, others (if the incorporation was obvious) as flattering the source (Seneca

Suasoriae 3.7). The Gospels (especially if they were circulating anonymously, though this

remains uncertain), however, functioned as common property of the apostolic church.

Whatever their sources, writers would likely normally pay careful attention to how

they arranged their material, especially given the importance of arrangement even in oral

discourse.37 Some ancient writers recommended connecting episodes to provide continu-

ity,38 a practice followed by Mark (cf. 1:14–39). Others like Polybius, however, allowed

disjunctions in their narratives, although recognizing that some disagreed with their prac-

tice.39 This may explain the breaks in John’s narrative, which is structured more chrono-

logically (following Jerusalem festivals) than the Synoptics.40 The basic plot of this Gospel

includes increasing conflict, and its overarching structure moves from signs that reveal

Jesus’ identity (chs. 2–12) to instructions for his followers (chs. 13–17), the Passion Narra-

INTRODUCTION

circulated among Parthian Jews (cf. Hata, “Version”), though the thoroughly Greek character

of Josephus’s current work might count against this. One could also adapt earlier works; Jose-

phus seems to have employed the War as his main source for the comparable portion of the Antiqui-

ties (Krieger, “Hauptquelle”); 3 and 4 Maccabees adapted material in 2 Maccabees (Gardner,

“Mqbym”).

31 Thus allowing such literary techniques as foreshadowing (Quintilian 10.1.21). Editing pro-

vided the writer a chance to craft the material; thus, e.g., Epictetus’s Discourses undoubtedly bear

less of Arrian’s stamp than the Enchiridion, where Arrian organizes and summarizes Epictetus’s

teachings.

32 Burridge, Gospels, 203; Aune, Environment, 82, citing Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.47–50; Lucian Hist.

16, 48; Demonax.

33 Although the old source theories concerning proto-Mark and proto-Luke are unfashionable,

it is likely that proto-gospels existed temporarily (though unlikely that they were published); cf.

Streeter, Gospels, 199–222; Taylor, Formation, 6, and appendix A; Wenham, “Parable.”

34 Talbert, John, 64, citing Aristotle Poet. 17.6–11.

35 Aune, Environment, 139.

36 Ibid., 65; cf. Downing, “Conventions”; idem, “Actuality”; Burridge, Gospels, 204–5.

37 See esp. Wuellner, “Arrangement.” Some forms of speeches did allow random sequence, how-

ever (Menander Rhetor 2.4.391.19–28; 392.9–14; 393.23–24).

38 Aune, Environment, 90, cites Lucian Hist. 55; Quintilian 7.1.1.

39 Aune, Environment, 90, cites Polybius 38.5.1–8.

40 Cf. Bruns, Art, 24–25; Tenney, John, 40–41. Murray, “Feasts,” prefers John’s chronology to

that of the Synoptics; Sanders, Figure, 68, thinks it hard to decide; but Borchert, “Passover,” 316 may

be correct that John intends most of the Passover material theologically.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

tive (chs. 18–19), and resurrection appearances (chs. 20–21). Instead of strictly linear plot

development, however, John’s plot often advances through the agency of repetition.41

Once a writer had completed such a public work, he (in most cases the writer was

“he”) would “publish” it, that is, make it available to its intended readership.42 Typically

this process would begin through public readings. The well-to-do would have readings as

entertainment following dinner at banquets, but the Gospels would be read in gatherings

of believers in homes.43 Readers of means who liked a work would then have copies made

for themselves, preserving and further circulating the work.44 Ancientaswellasmodern

readers recognized the value of rereading a document or speech as often as necessary to

catch the main themes and subtleties (Quintilian 10.1.20–21), but given the limited copies

of the Gospel available and the general level of public literacy,45 much of John’s audience

may have depended on public readings.

The Gospels seem to conform to the standards of length appropriate to the scrolls on

which they were written, which supports the likelihood that their authors intended them

tobepublished.Bysomeestimates,LukeandActsareroughlythesamelength;Matthewis

within 1 percent of the length of either; John is within 1 percent of three-quarters this

length and Mark is close to half.46 As Metzger notes, a normal Greek literary roll rarely ex-

ceeds thirty-five feet, but “the two longest books in the NT—the Gospel of Luke and the

Book of Acts—would each have filled an ordinary papyrus roll of 31 or 32 feet in length.

Doubtless this is one of the reasons why Luke-Acts was issued in two volumes instead of

one.”47 Scrolls were not always completely filled, sometimes having a blank space at the

end,48 but the Gospels seem to have used all their space as wisely as possible; Matthew may

condense and Luke expand at the end. (Likewise, Josephus seems to have been forced to

end suddenly his first scroll of what is now called Against Apion, having run out of space;

Ag. Ap. 1.320.)49

The lengths of the canonical gospels suggest not only intention to publish but also the

nature of their genre.50 All four gospels fit the medium-range length (10,000–25,000

words) found in ancient biographies as distinct from many other kinds of works.51 A

“book” was approximately what one could listen to in a setting.

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

41 Cf. Dewey, “Oral-Aural Event,” 148–50 (following Ong, Orality, 141–44), on Mark.

42 E.g., Josephus Ant. 1.proem 2, §5.

43 Burridge, One Jesus, 20; Alexander, “Production,” 86, 90; Dewey, “Oral-Aural Event,” 145–47;

cf. e.g., Diogenes Laertius 1.122; Cornelius Nepos 25 (Atticus), 14.1; Cicero Att. 2.1; 12.44; Seneca

Controv. 1.pref.19; Seneca the Younger Ep. Lucil. 95.2; Statius Silvae 2.pref.; Iamblichus V.P.

21.98–99; other sources in Keener, Matthew, 297. Perhaps they would be read after the Lord’s Sup-

per, a sort of dinner (1 Cor 10:21; 11:20–34; Jude 12).

44 E.g., Phaedrus 4.prol.17–19. The wealthy might also have their own readers (Cicero Fam.

7.1.3).

45 On public literacy, see, e.g., Lewis, Life, 61–62, 81–82. It is usually estimated around 10 per-

cent (Meeks, Moral World, 62; Botha, “Literacy”), but for a higher estimate (especially relevant for

urban settings), see Curchin, “Literacy.”

46 Morton in Morton and MacGregor, Structure, 16.

47 Text, 5–6; cf. Bruce, Books, 12; Palmer, “Monograph,” 5.

48 E.g., Diogenes Laertius 7.2.38, on Diogenes the Cynic.

49 Cornelius Nepos 15 (Epamindondas), 4.6, claims that he had to stop his account of

Epaminondas’s integrity to provide enough space for his other biographies.

50 For length in distinguishing genre see, e.g., Aristotle Poet. 24.4, 1459b.

51 Burridge, Gospels, 118, 199. John falls in the center of this range, the approximate length of

Cato Minor (ibid., 225–26).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

The average length of a book of Herodotus or Thucydides is about 20,000 words, which would

take around two hours to read. After the Alexandrian library reforms, an average 30–35 feet

scroll would contain 10,000 to 25,000 words—exactly the range into which both the Gospels

and many ancient bioi fall.52

Also seeking popular analogies, Moses Hadas and Morton Smith compared the Gos-

pels with aretalogies.53 AretalogiesdohavesomefeaturesincommonwithsomeGospel

narratives, but they are normally brief narrations or lists of divine acts, hence do not pro-

vide the best analogies for the Gospels as whole works.54 These narratives may support the

hypothesis of early circulated miracle-collections (such as John’s proposed signs source),

and indicate the degree to which narratives could be employed in the service of religious

propaganda. They do not, however, explain our current gospels and their length; aretalogy

was not even a clearly defined genre.55

2. Novels and Drama

Not all literary works concerning specific characters were biographies. Yet all four ca-

nonical gospels are a far cry from the fanciful metamorphosis stories, divine rapes, and so

forth in a compilation like Ovid’s Metamorphoses. TheGospelsplainlyhavemorehistorical

intention and fewer literary pretensions than such works. The primary literary alternative to

viewing the Gospels as biography, however, is not entertaining mythological anthologies but

to view them as intentional fiction,56 a suggestion that has little to commend it. First-century

readers recognized the genre of novel (the Hellenistic “romance”),57 including novels

about historical characters,58 but ancient writers normally distinguished between fictitious

and historical narratives.59 As some literary critics have noted, even when historical works

have incorrect facts they do not become fiction, and a novel that depends on historical infor-

INTRODUCTION

52 Burridge, “People,” 141.

53 Cf. Hadas and Smith, Heroes.

54 Shuler, Genre, 15–20; cf. Talbert, Gospel, 12–13. A proposal of aretalogical biographies (Wills,

Quest) would be more reasonable.

55 Burridge, Gospels, 18–19. Talbert, Gospel, 43, cites biographies of immortals (mainly from

the second and third centuries), but, as he admits, the religious or mythical dimension does not af-

fect genre (cf. Shuler, Genre, 21); his evidence for specific cultic biographies (Gospel, 91–113) is

mainly inferential (Aune, “Problem,” 37–42).

56 E.g., Apocrit. 2.12–15 (possibly by Porphyry); Mack, Myth, 11, 322–23.

57 Although writers like Apuleius and Achilles Tatius are a century or more after our period,

the nineteenth-century view of Greek novels as late (fifth or sixth centuries) is no longer tenable

(Aune, Environment, 150). Thus elements in Chariton Chaereas and Callirhoe, (Pseudo-) Plutarch

Love Stories (Mor. 771E–775E, five brief stories; the heroine of 774E–775B is named Callirhoë, but

apart from the suitors the story bears little resemblance to Chariton’s work), Petronius Satyricon,

Joseph and Aseneth, Judith, and other works suggest that the general genre was already established in

the NT period.

58 Cf., e.g., Lindenberger, “Ahiqar.” Yet even historical novels from the Hellenistic era often ex-

hibited some measure of historical accuracy (cf. Anderson, “3 Maccabees”; Miller, “Introduction,”

viii), though it varied considerably (e.g., Tobit exhibits anachronisms, but none as serious as Jdt

4:3). Even a pure novel like Apuleius’s Metamorphoses may include some autobiographical hints

(e.g., 11.30).

59 E.g., Lucian Hist. 12, who distinguishes proper biography from falsification and flattery; Plu-

tarch in Poetry 2(Mor. 16F) points to fabricated materials in poetry (quite different from his descrip-

tion of his sources in the Lives). See Mosley, “Reporting,” 26; Kany, “Bericht”; Witherington, Acts,

25–26; cf. Aune, Environment, 79 (who both notes the distinction and recognizes some overlap).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

mation does not become history.60 Talbertarguesthatnotallbiographieswerebasically

reliable like Suetonius and Plutarch; but his examples of unreliable biographies, Pseudo-

Callisthenes’ Alexander Romance and Lucian’s Passing of Peregrinus, do not make his case.61

The former is more like a historical novel, and the latter resembles satire. This is not to deny

some degree of overlap among categories in historical content, but to affirm that what dis-

tinguishes the two genres is the nature of their truth claims.62

Whereas the apocryphal gospels and apocryphal acts betray novelistic characteris-

tics,63 the four canonical gospels much more closely resemble ancient biography.64 With a

few notable exceptions (like Pseudo-Callisthenes), ancient novelists did not seek to write

historical novels.65 Further, novels typically reflected the milieu of their readership more

than that of their characters,66 a situation quite different from histories and biographies,

which were readily adapted for readers but focused on historical content. Finally, novels

were written primarily to entertain rather to inform.67 Some, like Apuleius’s Metamorpho-

ses, functioned as religious propaganda as well as entertainment, but entertainment re-

mained a key element, and religious propaganda certainly was not restricted to the genre

of novels.68 Nor are entertaining works necessarily novels; historical works intended pri-

marily to inform were nevertheless typically written in an entertaining manner, though

that was not their chief goal.69 Works with a historical prologue like Luke’s (Luke 1:1–4;

Acts 1:1–2) were historical works;70 novels lacked such fixtures, although occasionally they

could include a proem telling why the author made up the story (Longus proem 1–2).

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

60 Most Greek tragedies reflected and developed earlier tradition; thus in Helen Euripides fol-

lows the Recantation of Stesichorus (which violates the natural reading of Homer), yet to harmonize

with Homer must have Menelaus and Helen meet in Egypt and return to Sparta in time for

Telemachus’s arrival in the Odyssey. But such constraints were much more general than with histori-

cal works (cf. how closely Matthew or Luke follows Mark).

61 Talbert, “Acts,” 72. Pseudo-Callisthenes mixes both historical and fictitious sources, plus adds

his own fictions (e.g., Alex. 1.23), 450–750 years after the supposed events. Bowersock’s examples of

fictitionalized history (Fiction as History, 21) are also distinctly novelistic.

62 Carson, John, 64–65, following Sternberg, Poetics, 23–35.

63 See, e.g., Aune, Environment, 151–53; Bauckham, “Acts of Paul”; Keylock, “Distinctness,”

210. One may compare works such as the Acts of Paul and Thecla or Acts of John 53–64, 73–80, where

elements of the romance story line are followed, except that the women become devotees of the

male teacher in chastty, devoted not to sexual love but to God’s word.

64 Some scholars have suggested some overlap in the Gospels, though acknowledging that the

degree varies from Gospel to Gospel (e.g., Freyne, Galilee, 11).

65 Porter, “‘We’ Passages,” 550.

66 See Wiersma, “Novel.”

67 Talbert, Gospel, 17.

68 See Kee, Miracle, 193, for other propagandistic narratives in the Isis cult. It is hardly true,

however, that the genre as a whole was centered on religious propaganda (Kee, Miracle, 193–94). For

more Isis aretalogies see Horsley, Documents, 1:10–21.

69 Dio Cassius 1.1.1–2; Fornara, Nature of History, 120–33; Palmer, “Monograph,” 3, 29, citing,

e.g., Cicero Fam. 5.12.5; Polybius 1.4.11; 3.31.13; cf. also Dionysius of Halicarnassus Demosth. 47. Bur-

ridge, Gospels, 149–51, includes entertainment among the function of many biographies; and, p. 245,

complains that most of Pervo’s criteria for identifying novels are so broad they apply to most historical

works as well; cf. Porter, “‘We’ Passages,” 551–52. Some fiction did occur at times in ancient biography

(Chance, “Fiction”), especially when the subject had lived centuries earlier (Lefkowitz, Africa, 82).

70 Cf. the interesting parallels between Acts and “institutional history” in Cancik, “Historiogra-

phy.” Cancik (p. 673) and others are right to recognize the influence of the genre of Acts on Luke,

but the Gospel’s focus on a single person still makes it a “life”; no rule prohibited an overlap be-

tween biography and history.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

In contrast to novels, the Gospels do not present themselves as texts composed pri-

marily for entertainment, but as true accounts of Jesus’ ministry. The excesses of some

forms of earlier source and redaction criticism notwithstanding, one would also be hard

pressed to find a novel so clearly tied to its sources as Matthew or Luke is!71 Even John,

whose sources are difficult to discern, overlaps enough with the Synoptics in some ac-

counts and clearly in purpose to defy the category of novel. Despite some differences in

purpose among themselves, all four gospels fit the general genre of ancient biography:

the “life” (sometimes the public life) of a prominent person, normally written to praise the

person and to communicate some point or points to the writer’s generation. That they also

seek to propagate particular moral and religious perspectives does not challenge this dis-

tinction; biographies were also often propagandistic in a more general sense, intended to

providerolemodelsformoralinstruction.

Some have proposed that the Fourth Evangelist modeled his Gospel on Greek drama,

especially tragedy.73 (Thisproposalhas,however,beenmorefrequentlyappliedtoMark.

74)

The Gospels are, however, too long for dramas, which maintained a particular length in

Mediterranean antiquity.75 They also include far too much prose narrative for ancient

drama. Despite its inadequacy as a full-fledged generic category, however, the proposal has

some merit in that it at least invites us to investigate elements of Mediterranean storytelling

from this period that were borrowed from Greek drama. The forms of Greek drama per-

vaded Greco-Roman literature,76 tragic touches coloring even Tacitus’s writing. Thus, for ex-

ample, some point out that John generally has only two or at most three active (speaking)

characters at a time, which fits rules for staging in Greek drama, and he divides scenes in a

manner similar to such works.77 Paul Duke regards his “dramatic style” as so similar to clas-

sical Greek drama (in contrast with the Synoptics) that he believes the author shows some

acquaintance with Greek drama. Clearly the Fourth Gospel is not a play, but it “reflects a cul-

tural milieu in which the ironic style of Homer and the Greek tragedians had made its im-

print; and in the late first century few locations would have precluded such an influence.”78

Jewish works for Greek-speaking audiences sometimes adapted such features.79

Thus some have argued that the Fourth Gospel is a biography using the mode of

tragedy;80 Witherington lists nine parallels between John and Greek tragedy, though most

of the elements he lists also appear outside theater.81 But, as most who recognize dramatic

INTRODUCTION

71 Cf. also Hengel, “Problems,” 212.

72 E.g., Aune, Environment, 36; see further below.

73 See Domeris, “Drama.” The Gospel also pictures Jesus’ ministry as a trial (e.g., Kobelski,

“Melchizedek,” 193; Lincoln, Lawsuit Motif; van der Watt and Voges, “Elemente”), but this is not the

most prominent aspect of the Gospel’s portrayal.

74 Bilezikian, Liberated Gospel, especially on the plot, 51–78; idem, “Tragedy”; Stock, “Mystery

Play”; Stone, “Oedipus”; cf. Via, Kerygma, 99–101; Weeden, Mark, 17; Cox, “Tragedy,” 316–17;

Hengel, Studies in Mark, 34–36. On the plot, see Aune, Environment, 48.

75 Burridge, Gospels, 225.

76 Cf., e.g., Arrian Alex. 3.22.2–6; for interchange between drama and rhetoric see Scodel,

“Drama and Rhetoric.” Stricter historians could, however, criticize others’ elaborations intended to

evoke pathos (Polybius 2.56.7, 10–11).

77 Koester, Symbolism, 36; Ellis, Genius, 8.

78 Duke, Irony, 141. He thinks that John used these features for a Jewish purpose. Cultural

Roman pessimism, however, may contribute alongside Greek tragedy.

79 See esp. Josephus. Schmitt, “Form,” finds parallels in Wis 1:1–6:21 (although other scholars

would dispute some of these).

80 Witherington, Wisdom, 4; Culpepper, “Plot.”

81 Witherington, Wisdom, 4–5.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

features in this Gospel concur, there is a difference between a biography with dramatic col-

oring and a drama; and some of the constituent parts that Aristotle insisted belong in trag-

edy are simply not present. For example, Jesus’ interlocutors or disciples hardly function,

even when acting in concert, as a typical coriko/q,choralsong.

82 Of the necessary six parts

Aristotle identifies in tragedy, John lacks song, though he includes elements such as plot

and character (Aristotle Poet. 6.9, 1450a); yet nearly all poets include all these characteris-

tics (Poet. 6.11). Not only novelists but historians strove to develop internally consistent

narrative worlds,83 and among historical writers, those from whom one would expect such

attempts at consistency of plot and character, most are biographers.

Some have argued that the Gospels fit the genre of history and not biography.84 Dihle

argues that though the Gospels are “lives,”they differ from Greek lives because they cannot

trace moral development in one they regard as God incarnate.85 He argues that Roman bi-

ographies fall closer to history, starting with Suetonius.86 This argument, however, appears

problematic: did Tacitus (in his Agricola) suddenly develop a new genre in the same era as

Suetonius without prior models? Plutarch’s biographies also include considerable histori-

cal content. Moreover, historical works focused on a particular individual were “lives”

(bioi), the most natural category in which ancient readers would place the Gospels. (Only

Luke might appear more questionable, because it is paired with Acts, which is increasingly

recognized as a historical monograph.) Thus we turn directly to the biographical genre.

Biographies

In more recent years scholars have been returning to the consensus that the Gospels

represent biographies in the ancient sense of the term.87 We might compare them espe-

cially with philosophers’ bioi, which honored founders of philosophic schools and contin-

ued their teachings.88 Like epistle, biography (the bios, or “life”) was one of the most

commonliterarygenresinantiquity;thusitisnotsurprisingthatmuchoftheNT consists

of these two genres.89 Graham Stanton regards as “surprisingly inaccurate”the older views

of Bultmann and others that the Gospels were not biographies.90

Richard Burridge, after carefully defining the criteria for identifying genre and estab-

lishing the characteristic features of Greco-Roman bioi, or lives,91 shows how both the

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

82 Aristotle Poet. 12.1–3, 1452b.

83 See Stibbe, Gospel, 32–34.

84 Dihle, “Biography,” 381.

85 Ibid., 379.

86 Ibid., 383–84.

87 So, e.g., Aune, Environment, 46–76; Stanton, Jesus, 117–36; Robbins, Teacher, 10; Burridge,

“People,” 121–22; idem, “Biography, Ancient”; Cross, “Genres,” 402–4; Frickenschmidt, Evangelium

als Biographie; for aretalogical biography, see Wills, Quest. Some of these writers (e.g., Stanton, Gos-

pels, 19) reverse an earlier skepticism toward the biographical proposal (see Stanton, New People, 64;

cf. Aune, “Problem”). Cf. also Hodgson, “Valerius Maximus.”

88 See e.g., Culpepper, John, 64–66. Some later examples of this form may borrow the gospel

form (see Dillon and Hershbell, “Introduction,” 25, who also suggest that John’s Gospel may well

have been available).

89 Robbins, Teacher, 2–3.

90 Stanton, New People, 63; idem, Gospel Truth, 137.

91 For criteria for genre, see Gospels, 109–27; for pre-Christian Greco-Roman biographies,

128–53; for later ones, 154–90.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Synoptics and John fit this genre.92 SoforcefulishisworkonGospelgenreasbiography

that one knowledgeable reviewer concludes, “This volume ought to end any legitimate de-

nials of the canonical Gospels’ biographical character.”93 Arguments concerning the bio-

graphical character of the Gospels have thus come full circle: the Gospels, long viewed as

biographies until the early twentieth century, now again are widely viewed as biographies.

1. Greco-Roman Biography and History

Classifying the Gospels as ancient biography is helpful only if we define some of the

characteristics of ancient biography, particularly with respect to its historiographic char-

acter. As noted above, although biographies could serve a wide range of literary func-

tions,94 ancient biographers intended their works to be more historical than novelistic.95

First-century historiography often focused on notable individuals.96 The central difference

between biography and history was that the former focused on a single character whereas

the latter included a broader range of events.97 History thus contained many biographical

elementsbutnormallylackedthefocusonasinglepersonandtheemphasisoncharacter

ization.98 Biographies were less exhaustive, focusing more on the models of character they

provided (Plutarch Alex. 1.1–3).

Ancient biography differed from modern biography in some historiographic respects.

For instance, ancient biographies sometimes differed from their modern namesakes by be-

ginning in the protagonist’s adulthood, as in many political biographies (e.g., Plutarch

Caesar 1.1–4), the first-century Life of Aesop,99 and in Mark. In contrast to modern histori-

cal biography, ancient biographers also did not need to follow a chronological sequence;

most felt free to rearrange their material topically.100 Some scholars maintain that Peri-

patetic biographies were literary biographies ordered chronologically, insofar as was

possible;101 Alexandrian biographies were arranged more systematically or topically.102 Al-

though these types were never followed exactly, and chronological biographies appear to

have been rare,103 Luke seems to fall into the former category (following the order of Mark

INTRODUCTION

92 Ibid., 191–219 on the Synoptics, and 220–39 on John.

93 Talbert, “Review,” 715; cf. also Stanton, New People, 64.

94 Burridge, Gospels, 149–52, 185–88. For the divergence, see further Barr and Wentling, “Con-

ventions,” 81–88, although I would not regard all their examples as biographies.

95 For substantial overlap between the biography and history (as well as other) genres in antiq-

uity, see Burridge, Gospels, 63–67.

96 Fornara, Nature of History, 34–36, 116.

97 Lucian Hist. 7; also Witherington, Sage, 339, citing Plutarch Alex. 1.1–2.

98 See Fornara, Nature of History, 185.

99 Drury, Design, 29.

100 Cf., e.g., the accidental repetition in Plutarch Alex. 37.4; 56.1. This contrasts with the more

chronological practice of historians (e.g., Thucydides 2.1.1; 5.26.1), although even most historians

tended to follow events to their conclusion and not simply strict chronology (Dionysius of

Halicarnassus Thucyd. 9; Letter to Gnaeus Pompeius 3).

101 For examples, see Aune, Environment, 34, 63–64 (e.g., the lives of Aesop, Homer, Secundus,

and Herakles); cf. ibid., 82.

102 Aune, Environment, 31–32. Disordered chronology was not problematic to ancient readers;

thus the writer of 4 Maccabees is aware that the mother’s speech should occur at a certain point in

his narrative, and says so (12:7; cf. 2 Macc 7), but chooses to recount it later. Cf. the four categories

of ancient biography in Ferguson, Backgrounds, 307.

103 Stanton argues that our only actual example of a purely Peripateic biography is not chrono-

logical (Stanton, Jesus, 119–21). He contends that, of extant biographies, only Tacitus’s Agricola is

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

almost exactly except for several very significant exceptions), whereas Matthew (who is in-

fluenced more by Jewish encomium conventions) follows the more common topical for-

mat (compare his five topical discourse sections). Many Jewish interpreters doubted that

the biblical accounts of Moses at Sinai were arranged chronologically (cf. 4Q158).104 Nor

did early Christians expect the Gospels to reflect chronological sequence; Augustine sug-

gested the evangelists wrote their Gospels as God recalled the accounts to their memory

(Cons. 21.51; for Mark, see Papias in Eusebius Hist. eccl. 3.39).105

Some also argue that ancient biography, in contrast to modern biography or novels,

plays down characterization, but this is not accurate. Characterization was often accom-

plished by how a story was told rather than by specific comments,106 but such comments

do appear often enough in biographies,107 and rhetoricians often described a person’s

character directly to make a case (Rhet. ad Herenn. 4.50.63). Theophrastus even provides,

in graphic and often humorous ways, thirty basic character types (such as a flatterer or one

overly talkative) that offer various kinds of examples (Char. passim). At other times the

storytelling was certainly sufficient. Even in Greece’s ancient epic poetry, the stark charac-

ters of wrathful Achilles, proud Agamemnon, and clever Odysseus are impossible to miss.

Ancient literature abounds with developed examples of dysfunctional relationships; for

example, Dido in Virgil’s Aeneid appeared exceptionally susceptible to Aeneas because she

had never recovered from her first lover’s death. In contrast to some later psychologizing

approaches, some ancient biographers also proved reluctant to speculate concerning their

characters’ inner thoughts, though this again is not a rule (see Arrian Alex. 7.1.4).

History, too, was written differently then than in modern times. Biographies were es-

sentially historical works; thus the Gospels would have an essentially historical as well as a

propagandistic function. As Aune writes,

. . . while biography tended to emphasize encomium, or the one-sided praise of the subject, it

was still firmly rooted in historical fact rather than literary fiction. Thus while the Evangelists

clearly had an important theological agenda, the very fact that they chose to adapt Greco-

Roman biographical conventions to tell the story of Jesus indicates that they were centrally

concerned to communicate what they thought really happened.108

Ancient biographies and histories were different genres, yet (as the contemporary de-

bate over the genre of Luke-Acts shows) the former can draw on the principles of the latter

enough to allow considerable overlap (thus our examples in this chapter from ancient his-

tories as well as biographies). Yet claiming a basically historical function by ancient stan-

dards does not mean that the Gospel writers wrote history the way modern historians

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

genuinely chronological. Topical arrangement suited episodic narratives about a person (Hemer,

Acts, 74). Although historical writing and thus biography (Suetonius, Plutarch, Life of Aesop, etc.)

involved some chronology, it was not the most significant feature of any kind of ancient biography.

104 See Wise, “Introduction to 4Q158.”

105 An aged person might recall many events provided he were permitted to recite them ran-

domly rather than in order (Seneca Controv. 1.pref.4).

106 Stanton, Jesus, 125; idem, Gospel Truth, 139; Burridge, Gospels, 205, 208; in John, see

Burridge, Gospels, 229–30. Characterization is in fact central in ancient biographies (Fornara, Na-

ture of History, 185).

107 E.g., Cornelius Nepos 4 (Pausanias), 1.1. Josephus adapts some biblical characters, adding vir-

tues (cf., e.g., Feldman, “Jehoram”). Matthew (8:26; cf. 6:30) reduces Mark’s “unbelief”to “little faith.”

108 Aune, “Biography,” 125; cf. 64–65. Shuler, Genre, regards his subject (Matthew) as primarily

encomium, or laudatory, biography; but such a specific genre probably did not exist (Burridge, Gos-

pels, 88).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

would; ancient historiography proceeded on principles different from those of modern

historiography. (To insist otherwise is to force ancient works into a genre that did not yet

exist.) Because ancient historians lacked most historiographic tools that are now com-

monplace and were concerned to produce an engaging as well as informative narrative,109

their motives in writing and hence their treatment of details do not conform to modern

standards of historical analysis.

One should also note that writers had their own Tendenz (tendentious emphasis), for

instance Polybius’s pro-Roman Tendenz110 or Josephus’s apologetic attempt to whitewash

his people from excess complicity in the revolt while simultaneously appealing to the dig-

nity of his Roman readership.111 (Although the Cyropaedia is something of a historical

romance, it appears noteworthy that Xenophon’s Cyrus even reflects some Socratic

ideas—e.g., Cyr. 3.1.17!)112 Likewise, they would expect morals to be drawn from their

stories.113 Ancienthistoriansfeltthathistorytaughtmorallessons,

114 and that if one un-

derstood why events happened,115 not merely historians but also statesmen could use

themasprecedents(paradei/gmata).116 Thus some felt that historians should choose a

noble subject, so their work would contribute to good moral character as well as informa-

tion (e.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.2.1). Historians frequently included moral-

izing narrative asides to interpret history’s meaning for their readers, illustrate the

fulfillment of prophetic utterances, or provide the author’s perspective (e.g., Polybius

1.35.1–10; Diodorus Siculus 31.10.2; Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 7.65.2; Dio Cassius

1.5.4; Arrian Alex. 4.10.8; Cornelius Nepos 16 [Pelopidas], 3.1).117

INTRODUCTION

109 Aune, Environment, 80, 95. Ancient writers, unlike many modern ones, did not feel that

these were mutually exclusive goals. Thus the author of 2 Maccabees notes that he employed many

possible sources, but that his document was also written in such a way as to be enjoyed and easily re-

membered (2:24–25). One can write essentially factual accounts in the entertaining style of current

fiction (cf., e.g., Sterling, Sisters, 78, on Harriet Brent Jacobs’s style).

110 Cf. Momigliano, Historiography, 71–73. One may contrast the unexpected degree of impar-

tiality in the Athenian Thucydides’ description of the Peloponnesian War. Impartiality claims are

most common for those writing of recent events, when patronage associations could be thought to

bias them (Witherington, Acts, 49).

111 Often noted, e.g., Mason, Josephus and NT,60–71, 77–81; cf. ibid., 196–98. For Josephus’s

pro-Flavian propaganda, see Saulnier, “Josèphe.”

112 Cicero Quint. fratr. 1.1.8.23 argues that Xenophon’s Cyropaedia was intended to teach

proper government, not primarily to report historical truth.

113 Often noted, e.g., Mason, Josephus and NT,63. Outside the genre, one may consider, e.g.,

Pindar Encomia frg. 121; Theophrastus Char. proem 3; Philostratus Lives 2.1.554; Athenaeus Deipn.

1.10e, on what could be done with Homer; or Aesop’s morals in his Fables (e.g., 172); for theology in

rabbinic stories, see Pearl, Theology, passim; even Tacitus felt no constraint to avoid editorial state-

ments at times (e.g., Ann. 4.33).

114 See Frei, “Apologetics,” 56, noting that this view was also influential in eighteenth-century

England.

115 See, e.g., Polybius 2.56.13; 3.32.2. Ancient historians did not, as some contend, ignore lines

of cause and effect (Rajak, Josephus, 102).

116 Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 5.56.1; Polybius 3.31.11–13. Rhetoricians used para-

dei/gmata, human examples, to make moral points in their speeches (R.A. 6.80.1; Rhet. Alex.

8.1429a.21–1430a.13; Cicero Sest. 48.102; cf. also Kennedy, “Survey of Rhetoric,” 21). On such his-

torical “paradigms”see also Diodorus Siculus 37.4.1; Herodian 3.13.3. One could advance one’s case

by contrast or comparison (e.g., Demosthenes On the Embassy 174; Dionysius of Halicarnassus,

Demosth. 33; as a literary device, see Shuler, Genre, 50; Stanton, New People, 77–80, 83).

117 Hedrick is thus certainly right to reject John’s narrative asides as evidence of redaction

(“Unreliable Narration,” 132–33, 142; also O’Rourke, “Asides”; Tenney, “Footnotes”; for narrative

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Dionysius of Halicarnassus lists three purposes for writing history: first, that the cou-

rageous will gain “immortal glory” that outlives them; second, that their descendants will

recognize their own roots and seek to emulate their virtue; and finally, that he might show

proper goodwill and gratitude toward those who provided him training and informa-

tion.118 Elsewhereheincludesamonghistory’slessonsthevirtueofpietytowardthegods

(R.A. 8.56.1). Livy claimed that history teaches a nation’s greatness and what one may imi-

tate (Livy 1. pref.10).119 Polybius opened his massive history by explaining that the most

effectivebehavioralcorrectiveis“knowledgeofthepast”(Polybius1.1.1,LCL1:3).

120 The

emphasis on imitating ancestral wisdom and learning from both positive and negative his-

torical examples is at least as old as classical Athenian rhetoric (Aeschines False Embassy

75–76; Lysias Or. 2.61.196) and remained in Roman rhetoric (Cicero Sest. 68.143).

Second-century C.E. orators continued to expound morals from fifth-century B.C.E. Greek

history (Maximus of Tyre Or. 6.5); later orators also used Plutarch’s Lives this way

(Menander Rhetor 2.4, 392.28–31).

Jewish people understood the Bible’s narratives as providing moral lessons in the

same manner: the writers recorded examples of virtue and vice for their successors to em-

ulate or avoid (Philo Abraham 4; 1 Cor 10:11). They could likewise employ postbiblical

models as examples of virtues (e.g., 4 Macc 1:7–8). Because Josephus repeats so much of

the biblical narrative in the Antiquities, onecanreadilynotethewayheadaptsbiblical

characters to accentuate their value as positive (Isaac;121 Joseph;Moses;RuthandBoaz;

Samuel;122 Hezekiah;123 Jehoshaphat;124 Josiah;125 Daniel; Nehemiah126), negative (Jero-

boam; Ahab127), or intermediate moral models.128

No less than other historical writers, biographers frequently sought to teach moral les-

sons from their stories;129 one could in a sense learn from great teachers of the past by

proxy, as disciples of their recorded teachings.130 Cornelius Nepos, in fact, declares that

biographersdweltonthevirtuesoftheirsubjectsinwaysthathistoriansdidnot,and

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

asides in histories and biographies, see Sheeley, Asides, 56–93; for parenthesis as a rhetorical tech-

nique, see Rowe, “Style,” 147; Black, “Oration at Olivet,” 87, citing Quintilian 9.3.23; Anderson,

Glossary, 89–90). Further, even longer digressions are common in ancient literature (e.g., Josephus

Life 336–367; Aune, Environment, 30, citing, e.g., Thucydides 1.97.1; ibid., 93–95, 102). Although

character development was not a central focus of ancient biography, Josephus’s portrayal indicates a

(negative) development in Herod the Great’s character.

118 Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.6.3–5; cf. Diodorus Siculus 15.1.1; 37.4.1.

119 On the hortatory value of history in Roman historians, see Fornara, Nature of History,

115–16.

120 For Polybius’s appreciation for history’s political value, see Fornara, Nature of History, 113.

121 For a more detailed study of Josephus’s adaptations see Feldman, “Isaac.”

122 Feldman, “Joseph,” “Moses,” and “Samuel”; Levison, “Ruth.” Hata, “Moses,” emphasizes the

apologetic value of Josephus’s portrayal of Moses against anti-Semites.

123 See Josephus Ant. 10.24–35; Begg, “Illness”; Feldman, “Hezekiah.”

124 See Josephus Ant. 9.1–17; Begg, “Jehoshaphat”; Feldman, “Jehoshaphat.”

125 See Begg, “Josiah”; Feldman, “Josiah.”

126 See Feldman, “Daniel,” “Nehemiah.”

127 See Feldman, “Jeroboam,” “Ahab.”

128 Noah appears positive, but Feldman, “Noah,” thinks Josephus reduced his role because he

was ancestor of the Gentiles. In idealizing characters into various types, Josephus may also have

used standard Hellenistic typologies for women characters (Sarah as the good wife, Potiphar’s wife

asevil,etc.;cf.Amaru,“Women”).

129 Burridge, Gospels, 150; cf. Dihle, “Biography,” 367–74.

130 Robbins, Teacher, 110–11.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

intended their work for less technical audiences (16 [Pelopidas], 1.1). Biographers also

could write for apologetic and polemical reasons.131 Some ancient biographers emphasize

moral lessons in their stories more than others; some writers, like Plutarch, vary in their

moralizing even from one biography to the next.132

Atthesametime,theTendenz of the documents does not destroy their historical

value; as Jewish scholar Geza Vermes points out, “a theological interest is no more incom-

patible with a concern for history than is a political or philosophical conviction,” and we

can allow for these in interpretation.133 ThebetterhistorianslikePolybiusfeltthattheir

work should include praise and blame for individuals, but that—in contrast to the practice

of many writers—they should pursue truth and fairness (Polybius 8.8), properly evaluat-

ing the right distribution of praise and blame (Polybius 3.4.1). They felt free to critique

their heroes’ shortcomings (e.g., Arrian Alex. 4.7.4; 4.8.1–4.9.6), and most biographies

mixed some measure of praise and blame (e.g., Plutarch Cimon 2.4–5; Cornelius Nepos 11

[Iphicrates], 3.2).134 One could tell a less than flattering story even about one’s own

teacher, though apt to report especially favorable matters about him (Philostratus Vit.

soph. 2.21.602–603).135 One could also criticize some activities of other figures one re-

garded highly.136 Of course some teachers were regarded as exceptional; Xenophon has

only good to report about Socrates (Mem. 4.8.11), and it is hardly likely that early Chris-

tians would find flaws in one they worshiped (cf. later Iamblichus V. P. passim). But nor-

mally disciples respected their teachers enough to preserve and transmit their teachers’

views accurately, even when they disagreed with them, rather than distort their teach-

ers’ views to fit their own.137 Further, when one’s source could not recall the substance of a

speech, a biographer might not try to reproduce it (Eunapius Lives 484). Much history

may be written by the victors,138 but even in ancient historiography triumph did not al-

ways dictate bias.139 All ancient historians and biographers, like many modern ones, had

important agendas; they used history to shed light on their own time, no less than did the

INTRODUCTION

131 Burridge, Gospels, 151, 180; for apologetic autobiography, cf., e.g., Josephus Life 336–367;

2 Cor 11:8–33; Gal 1:11–24.

132 Burridge, Gospels, 68–69.

133 Vermes, Jesus and Judaism, 19; cf. Levinskaya, Diaspora Setting, 2; Hemer, Acts, 79–90.

134 For Plutarch, see Lavery, “Lucullus”;honoring subjects could, but need not, produce distor-

tion (Fornara, Nature of History, 64–65). Rhetorical conventions appeared in ancient biography, but

more in rhetorical biographers such as Isocrates (see Burridge, “Biography”). Forensic speech,

where a primary object was legal victory, was naturally another story (e.g., Dionysius of Halicar-

nassus Lysias 8).

135 One might be thought biased when writing about close friends (Philostratus Vit. soph.

2.33.628), but Tacitus wrote freely of his father-in-law (Agricola; see below). One pupil reportedly

did omit some of his teacher’s sayings, but because they were rhetorically inappropriate (Philo-

stratus Vit. soph. 2.29.621).

136 Eunapius Lives 461 (on Iamblichus, who is supernatural in 459); Plutarch Marcus Cato 5.1,

5; 12.4; for writers’ style, Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 1. One could also disagree with the

dominant view of one’s school (e.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 117.6).

137 See e.g., Seneca Ep. Lucil. 108.17, 20, 22; 110.14, 20; Musonius Rufus 1, 36.6–7 (Pythagoras’s

disciples differed, but this was considered noteworthy—Valerius Maximus 8.15.ext.1). Occasionally

pupils could even turn against their teachers (Eunapius Lives 493), but in such a case they would no

longer claim his authority for the source of their teaching.

138 Thus Xenophon, largely accurate in what he reports in the Hellenica, nevertheless proves bi-

ased by what he omits of Thebes’s greatness (Brownson, “Introduction,” ix–x), although he remains

our “best authority” for the period (xi).

139 Cf. the respective roles of Pompey and Caesar in Lucan C.W. passim.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Gospels.140 But had the Gospel writers wished to communicate solely later Christian

doctrineandnothistory,theycouldhaveusedsimplerformsthanbiography.

141

Thus the Gospel writers’ purpose is historical as well as theological. As readers of the

OT, which most Jews viewed as historically true,142 they must have believed that history it-

self communicated theology.143 In the context of a Jewish covenantal understanding of

history as the framework for God’s revelation, the earliest Christians must have been inter-

estedinthehistoryofJesus.

144 The NT writers claimed to use genuine history as their

evocative myth, purporting to announce historical truth in the public arena.145 Uncom-

fortable as this claim may make some modern students of the material, it deserves to be

taken seriously. The most frequent counterclaims—that the earliest church experienced

radical amnesia before our earliest record or that the disciples offered their lives to defend

willful deception—stretch the bounds of historical credibility far more, relieving modern

interpreters from having to address philosophically foreign constructs only by permitting

our own bias to eliminate testimony for supernatural phenomena engrained in the

tradition.

The Fourth Gospel is both historical and literary/theological. Of the four canonical

gospels, John is certainly the most literary/theological, but a forced choice between report-

ing of historical tradition and theological interpretation of that tradition is no more ap-

propriate here than with the other gospels. There are simply too many points at which this

Gospel includes what sounds like pure Johannine theology yet is in fact confirmed as ear-

lier tradition by parallels in the Synoptics (see commentary, ad loc.). Unless one dates John

firstandclaimsthattheSynopticsortheirsourcesdrewfromJohn,Johnshowssomede-

pendence on earlier tradition, although thoroughly reworded in his own idiom. If John’s

central claim is the Word’s enfleshment (1:14), he claims not to merely interpret the

church’s faith but to interpret also “the apostolic witness concerning Jesus’ historical self-

disclosure.”146 Thus the Paraclete recalls and interprets history, aiding the witnesses (14:26;

15:26–27).147

2. How History Was Written

Sometimes modern scholars write as if ancient historians and biographers lacked

proper histiographic care or interest, but such a sweeping judgment neglects too much

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

140 Aune, Environment, 62 (citing especially Isocrates Nic. 35; Demon. 34; Polybius 1.1.2; Livy

1.pref.10–11; Plutarch Aemilius Paulus 1.1; Lucian Demonax 2). An interpretive framework and

even nonhistoric genre need not obscure all historical data; e.g., Sib. Or. 5.1–50 recites recent history

accurately from its author’s conceptual standpoint (i.e., including legends he assumes to be histori-

cal), despite some confusion (cf. 5.460–463).

141 Vermes, Jesus and Judaism, 20.

142 E.g., even the allegorist Philo in Creation 1–2: Moses refused to invent fables.

143 Thus, e.g., the features that Acts shares with OT historical works confirms that Luke in-

tended to write history (Rosner, “History,” 81).

144 Wright, People of God, 426. Interest in history distinguished the Christian movement from

Mithraism, with its more cosmic emphasis (see Martin, “Mithraism”), but fits the typical commit-

ment of ancient historians (Hemer, Acts, 63–70). The Qumran sect emphasized inspired interpreta-

tion yet preserved authentic memory of their founding Teacher (Stuhlmacher, “Theme,” 13; cf.

comment on 14:26), albeit not at length.

145 Wright, People of God, 471.

146 Ridderbos, John, 7, 13.

147 Ibid., 14–16.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

evidence. History was supposed to be truthful,148 and historians harshly criticized other

historians whom they accused of promoting falsehood, especially when they exhibited

self-serving agendas.149 A writer who consistently presents the least favorable interpreta-

tion, ignoring the diverse views of his sources, could be accused of malice.150 (Ancients

did, however, permit biography more freedom to be one-sided in praise than academic

history.)151 Biographers might also evaluate witnesses’ motives; Antiphon’s report about

Alcibiades is suspect because he hated him (Plutarch Alc. 3.1). To a lesser extent, they

critiqued those who unknowingly got their facts wrong.152 This emphasis did not mean

that historians could not omit some events153—indeed, ancient historiographers de-

manded selectivity and sometimes made that a major distinction between “history” and

“chronicles”154—but it did prohibit the creation of events.

Aristotle noted that the difference between “history” and “poetry” was not literary

style, for one could put Herodotus into verse if one wished; but that history recounts what

actually happened whereas poetry tells what might happen.155 Thus historical inquiry re-

quired not merely rhetorical skill but research (Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.1.2–4;

1.4.2),156 and those thought guilty of inadequate research or acquaintance with their sub-

jectswerelikelytobedoubted(ArrianInd. 7.1).

Accounts could naturally be expanded or abridged freely without question.157 Whereas

Josephus expands on some biblical narratives while he follows accurately the sequence and

substance of the account,158 2 Maccabees openly claims to be a careful abridgment of a

five-volume work by Jason of Cyrene.159 Among Theon’s rhetorical exercises is the practice

of “expanding” and “condensing” fables:160 “We ‘expand’ by lengthening the speeches-in-

character in the fable, and by describing a river or something of this sort. We condense by

INTRODUCTION

148 E.g., Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.26; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 8.

149 Josephus Life 336–339; Diodorus Siculus 21.17.1; Lucian Hist. 24–25. Those who claimed

the superiority of their own works, however, risked the charge of impudence (Josephus Life 359).

150 So Plutarch Malice of Herodotus 3–7, Mor. 855C–856B (but in defense of Herodotus, Plu-

tarch’s other extant sources may have followed a favorable bias; Plutarch may have his own bias be-

cause of Herodotus’s critique of Boeotia, Plutarch’s homeland). Perhaps more plausibly, cf.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus Letter to Gnaeus Pompeius 3, on Thucydides’ grudge against Athens.

151 So Polybius 10.21.8, contrasting depiction of someone in his history with an earlier biogra-

phyhehadwrittenaboutthesameperson.

152 Diodorus Siculus 1.37.4, 6.

153 E.g., Josephus Life 339; Ag Ap. 1.60–66; Dio Cassius 1.1.1–2 (though Dionysius of Halicar-

nassus R.A. 7.66.5; 11.1.1–6 emphasizes that he chose accuracy over brevity). Josephus Life 365–367

boasts that Agrippa II testified to the accuracy of his work but offered to supply additional informa-

tion. In novels as well, retellings could omit some details (e.g., Chaereas’s kick in Chariton 2.5.10–11).

154 Whittaker, “Introduction,” li–lii, citing Lucian Hist. 4–6, 27.

155 Aristotle Poet. 9.2, 1451b; thus poetry is more philosophical, conveying general truths,

whereas history conveys specific facts (9.3, 1451b).

156 Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.24–25 also criticizes those more interested in showing off rhetorical skill

than in historical truth. Even the best historians employed standards of rhetoric, but they used more

restraint (McCoy, “Thucydides,” 29–31; cf. also Witherington’s addendum, 23–32).

157 This calls into question early form-critical studies that supposed that the tradition’s ten-

dency was nearly always expansive; see Sanders, Tendencies, 19, 46–87, 88–189, 272; cf. Stein, “‘Cri-

teria,’”238–40. Even oracles, which were considered divine utterances, could be expanded; see Aune,

Prophecy, 58.

158 Cf., e.g., Begg, “Blanks,” on Josephus Ant. 9.29–43 and 2 Kgs 3:4–27.

159 2 Macc 2:24–25, noting that the author followed the rules of abridgement (2:28).

160 Progymn. 4.37–42.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

doing the opposite.”161 When applied to other kinds of narrative, this need not tamper

with historical details; aside from adding details known from other sources and adding

some description that is either implicit in the narrative or inherently probable in itself,

Theon’s example for expanding a chreia does not make much change in its basic mean-

ing.162 Likewise,Longinusexplainsamplification(au7xhsiq) as adding more and more

phrases to bring home the point with increasing force.163

Similarly, that Matthew often abridges Markan accounts was no more problematic

than the process of abridgement is today, and may have been welcomed. Greco-Roman

writers and rhetoricians appreciated conciseness in a narrative, provided that it did not

impair clarity or plausibility.164 Expansion was sometimes due to the passage of time and

consequent growth of tradition;165 in other cases, long stories were sometimes continually

abbreviated over time.166 Both poets and prose writers sometimes added clauses nones-

sential to the meaning or removed essential ones simply to make the arrangement sound

better (Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lit. Comp. 9).

Inserting sayings from sayings-collections into narrative, or adding narratives to say-

ings, was considered a matter of arrangement, not a matter of fabrication.167 One thing

reminding the narrator of another was a common rhetorical technique for transition.168 It

seems to have been understood that sayings in collections were redacted, rather than

recited verbatim.169 Thus Phaedrus feels free to adapt Aesop for aesthetic reasons, mean-

while seeking to keep to the spirit of Aesop (Phaed. 2.prol.8). And paraphrase of sayings—

attempts to rephrase them without changing their meaning—was standard rhetorical

practice, as evidenced by the school exercises in which it features prominently.170 Such

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

161 Progymn. 4.80–82 (trans. Butts).

162 Progymn. 3.224–240. In Progymn. 2.115–123, Theon compares elaborations in earlier his-

torical sources. Elaboration (e]rgasi/a) was especially useful for rebuttal (Progymn. 1.172–175).

163 Longinus Subl. 11.1; cf. Menander Rhetor 2.3, 379.2–4.

164 Theon Progymn. 5.39–43, 52–53; Phaedrus 2.prol.12–13; 3, epil. 8–9; 4, epil.7–9; Philo-

stratus Hrk. 29.6; in speeches, e.g., Diogenes Laertius 7.1.20; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 55;

Demosth. 18, 20, 24; Lysias 5; Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.4.569. One could, however, be too brief at

times (Phaedrus 3.10.59–60; Dionysius of Halicarnassus 2 Amm. 2).

165 In Jewish sources, cf., e.g., ÂAbot R. Nat. 7, §21 B (for a pseudonymous claim to have person-

ally witnessed something that earlier tradition simply reports). For a halakic example, cf. Hoenig,

“Kinds of Labor.” Amplification and embellishment are thus more characteristic of the apocryphal

gospels (Carmignac, “Pré-pascal”).

166 Cf. Blomberg, “Thomas,” 195, especially on the Gospel of Thomas (in which additions pri-

marily reflect gnostic themes, but which was especially abbreviated to streamline, as were Matthew

and Mark).

167 Theon Progymn. 4.73–79, on adding narrative to a fable or the reverse (although the narra-

tive is added as a parallel, not as a setting, for the fable). Authors could add maxims to narratives

(Progymn. 5.388–425) or combine preexisting narratives to relate two or more of them at once

(5.427–441). The alternative to combining narratives was simply to relate them in episodic fashion,

as Mark sometimes does; this was acceptable for most readers, if not according to the highest liter-

ary fashions (Drury, Design, 30; cf. Smith, Magician, 109).

168 Quintilian 9.2.60–61. Cf. the discussion of catchwords in Gerhardsson, Memory, 145–49,

153; in the Gospels, cf. Bultmann, Tradition, 325–26.

169 Cf., e.g., the redactional structure of m. ÂAbot 2:9, where Johanan ben Zakkai asks five dis-

ciples a question in positive form, commending the answer of the fifth; when he repeats the ques-

tion in negative form, he receives mainly the same answers in negative form, and again commends

the fifth.

170 Theon Progymn. 1.93–171; cf., e.g., Epictetus Diatr. 1.9.23–25 with Oldfather’s note refer-

ring to Plato Apol. 29C, 28E (LCL 1:70–71).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

paraphrase provided a degree of rhetorical freedom, and in the case of familiar lines would

prove more aesthetically appealing than verbatim repetition.171

Thus even writers intending to write accurate history could “spice up” or “enhance”

their narratives for literary, moralistic, and political purposes.172 This is not to say that

good historians fabricated events; but they did often alter or add explanatory details to

events.173 Authors differed among themselves as to how much variation in detail they per-

mitted, but some writers who wanted to guard the historical enterprise from distortion

had strong feelings about those who permitted too much.174 Thus the second-century

rhetorician Lucian objected to those historical writers who amplified and omitted merely

for literary or encomiastic purposes (i.e., to make the character look better).175 The earlier

historian Polybius reports graphic bloodshed (15.33), but claims that, unlike some other

writers, he avoids amplifying it for sensationalism (15.34); indeed, he savages another

writer for sensationalism and excess accommodation of tragic conventions (2.56.1–11;

with examples, 2.57.1–2.63.6). Diogenes Laertius often cites his sources, and does not

fabricate material to produce symmetry in his accounts (for instance, while he cites

letters from some ancient philosophers, he apparently has none to cite for others like

Socrates, in contrast with some pseudonymous Cynic epistles attributed to Socrates).

Often later biographers simply repeat what earlier biographers said (e.g., Dionysius of

Halicarnassus Lysias 1).

To be sure, many ancient writers pointed out the obscurity of the earliest reports,

from centuries earlier, while demanding a much higher standard of accuracy when handling

reportsclosertotheirownperiod.

176 When writing about characters of the distant past,

historians would have to sort through legendary as well as actual historical data, and might

well have difficulty ascertaining which was which.177 Thus, for example, Plutarch, when

INTRODUCTION

171 Contrast tedious repetition in some earlier literature, e.g., Homer Il. 8.402–408, 416–422

(except the change from first to third person).

172 See esp. Lyons, Autobiography, 29–32. Lyons advises reading such texts critically, not com-

pletely rejecting their historical value (p. 66). Vividness was important for rhetorical style (Cicero

De or. 2.45.189; Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lysias 7), and some writers might add details to aug-

ment dramatic effect (Plutarch Alex. 70.3).

173 Aune, Environment, 82. Shuler, Genre, 50, cites Aristotle Rhet. 1.9.5 to the effect that it is ap-

propriate to bestow praise on a man who has not actually done a given work, if his character is such

that he would have done it. But this may imply praise for character or for already reported deeds

consistent with that character rather than intentional fabrication of events.

174 Thus, for instance, Polybius criticized “tragic historians,” who “improperly combined fic-

tional drama with factual history” (Aune, Environment, 84). Yet tragic elements, praised in poetry

(Quintilian 10.1.64), were not out of place in even the strictest of historians. Without fabricating

events, Tacitus certainly stamped many of them with tragic coloring (e.g., Ann. 5.9).

175 Shuler, Genre, 11–12; cf. Bowersock, Fiction as History, 1–27. See esp. Lucian Hist. 7–13; in A

True Story 1.4 he complains that novelizers failed to recognize how obvious their “lies” were.

Herodian (1.1.1–2) shares this criticism despite his own rhetorical adjustments (cf. Whittaker, “In-

troduction,” xxxviii–xxxix)! The complaint also appears in mythography (cf. Philostratus Hrk.

24.1–2).

176 E.g., Thucydides 1.21.1; Livy 6.1.2–3; 7.6.6; Diodorus Siculus 1.6.2; 1.9.2; 4.1.1; 4.8.3–5;

Dionysius of Halicarnasus R.A. 1.12.3; Thucyd. 5; Pausanias 9.31.7; Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.15, 24–25, 58;

cf. Bowersock, Fiction as History, 1–2. Some also considered the earlier period qualitatively different

because of divine activities (Hesiod Op. 158–60, 165; Arrian Alex. 5.1.2), but others mistrusted its

reports because of such unusual events (Thucydides 1.23.3).

177 Some, like the author of the Life of Aesop, may simply string together all the available popular

traditions into a narrative. These traditions had grown over six centuries (see Drury, Design, 28–29).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

he writes about Theseus, who reportedly lived over a millennium before him, proposes to

purify “Fable, making her submit to reason and take on the semblance of History” by de-

termining what is probable and credible.178 This means that ancient historiography some-

times had to settle for historical verisimilitude, rather than high probability (by modern

standards) concerning the events ancient historians reported.179 Many critically evaluated

their mass of sources, sorting what they regarded as credible from what they did not.180

Somewhat like the form critics’ criterion of coherence, consistency of reported behavior

with a person’s known behavior provided a criterion for evaluating the probability of an-

cient sources’ claims.181 They might recognize exaggeration in an account, while averring

that genuine historical tradition stood behind it,182 or might regard an account as too im-

plausible altogether.183 Thucydides even takes into account the material remains of

Mycenae in evaluating the Iliad’s reliability (1.10.1–2) and takes into account the relative

dates of his sources (1.3.2–3). Plutarch disputes Herodotus’s claim (9.85) on the basis

of the numbers and an extant inscription (Aristides 19.5–6). Writers closer to the

events they describe are normally considered more reliable (Plutarch Malice of Herodotus

20, Mor. 859B).

But even if they could not achieve historical certainty about events of the distant past,

their attempts to reconstruct the likeliest past indicates that historical writers were con-

cerned with historical probability, as many of them plainly affirm.184 Even when writing

about characters from a period for which the evidence was no longer clear, good historical

writers tried to distinguish between accurate and inaccurate sources.185 Thus Arrian often

evaluates various reports by comparing them; he notes that one story too prominent to ig-

nore is not reported by any of the eyewitness writers, hence is probably unreliable (Arrian

Alex. 6.28.2).186 In more recent as well as in older times, of all possible sources, eyewitness

and firsthand sources were the best;187 likewise, ancients could also recognize the superior

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

178 Plutarch Theseus 1.3. Arrian accepts but explains on rationalistic grounds some old legends

(Alex. 2.16.6).

179 See Dio Cassius 62.11.3–4; Aune, Environment, 83; Fornara, Nature of History, 134–36.

180 E.g., demythologizing in Thucydides 1.21.1–2; Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.39.1;

1.41.1 (cf.1.84.4); Thucyd. 6; Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.1.554; recognizing how propaganda helped

create legend (Arrian Alex. 4.28.1–2); applying a criterion of coherency with known customs of a

report’s day (Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 9.22.1–5); reporting stories as difficult to believe and

recommending the reader’s use of discretion (Livy 4.29.5–6; 23.47.8); or examining chronological

and other tensions within a text (Maclean and Aitken, Heroikos, il–l [citing Philostratus Hrk. 23.5–6;

25.10–13]).

181 Arrian Alex. 7.14.4–6. The same criterion could apply, however, in fictitious composition or

historical reconstruction based on plausibility (cf. Aristotle Poet. 15.4–5, 1454a; Theon Progymn.

1.46–52; 2.79–81; 8.2–3; in a history, see, e.g., Dio Cassius 62.11.3–4).

182 E.g., Livy 3.8.10.

183 Aulus Gellius 10.12.8–10. Some could also caution readers not to be too skeptical of an ac-

count that otherwise appeared implausible (Sallust Catil. 3.2; Plutarch Camillus 6.4).

184 E.g., Josephus Ant. 20.156–157; see more extensively Mosley, “Reporting,” passim. Even

Josephus Life 336–339 attests to historians’ concern for accuracy.

185 Excepting when a consensus view was available (cf. Livy 1.1.1).

186 Hearsay without eyewitness testimony is much less credible (Arrian Ind. 15.7).

187 See Josephus Life 357; Ag. Ap. 1.45–49, 56; War 1.2–3; Xenophon Hell. 6.2.31 (refusing to be-

lieve a report until an eyewitness was available); Dionysius of Halicarnassus Thucyd. 7; Seneca Nat.

3.25.8; 4.3.1; Arrian Alex. 1.pref.2–3; 6.11.8; Cornelius Nepos 23 (Hannibal), 13.3; 25 (Atticus),

13.7; 17.1. Historians often preferred sources closer in time to the events reported (Livy 7.6.6;

25.11.20).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

value of sources published while living eyewitnesses could either confirm or dispute the

accounts.188 Others could cite an allegedly genuine letter to challenge other traditions

(Plutarch Alex. 46.1–2; Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.1.562–563). Of course, whether for bias or

memory lapse, even eyewitnesses did not always agree on details, and this would require

some weighing of individual testimony (Thucydides 1.22.3). When such distinction be-

tween accurate and inaccurate sources was impossible, writers often simply presented sev-

eral different current opinions on what had happened.189 A writer might simply admit that

he did not know how something happened (Sallust Jug. 67.3).

Their methods for evaluating that probability usually stressed inconsistencies and un-

likelihood, as in ancient lawcourts, rather than questioning the sources behind the writers’

ownsources.ThusDionysiusofHalicarnassus(R.A. 4.6.1) challenges an event recounted

in earlier histories because of intrinsic improbabilities in their accounts.190 But the interest

of historical writers was essentially historical, even when their sources, mixed with centu-

ries of accretions, were no longer pure.

That ancient historians, biographers, and anthologists depended on earlier sources is

not in question; they frequently cite them,191 and often cite varying accounts, even when

preferring one above another.192 Arrian prefers his two earliest sources, which generally

agree, above others, and chooses between them when they diverge;193 when sources diverge

too much, he frankly complains that the exact truth is unrecoverable.194 Plutarch cites five

sources for one position and nine for another, plus an extant letter attributed to the person

about whom he writes; but he then adds that the minor divergence does not affect our

view of his hero’s character (the main point for him; Alex. 46.1–2). Valerius Maximus, a

INTRODUCTION

188 E.g., Josephus Life 359–366. Of course, the events were freshest in a witness’s mind immedi-

ately after the events (Lysias Or. 20.22.160), but testimony within the generation was accepted.

189 E.g., Diogenes Laertius 1.23: “But according to others”; 6.1.13; 8.2.67–72; Plutarch Lycurgus

1.1; Philostratus Vit. soph. 1.21.516; 2.5.576; p. So¤ah 9:13, §2. Historical distance also increased the

possibility of gratuitous errors, as in 4 Macc 4:15 (Antiochus Epiphanes was Seleucus’s younger

brother rather than his son, but the mistake is understandable).

190 Cf. also Pausanias 9.31.7; Plutarch Isis 8; and Theon’s reasons for thinking the account

of Medea murdering her children implausible (Progymn. 5.487–501; cf. 3.241–276, 4.112–116,

126–134). Arguments from probability and/or internal consistency had become standard (e.g.,

Demosthenes On the Embassy 120; Against Pantaenetus 23; Aristotle Rhet. 1.15.17, 1376a; Dionysius

of Halicarnassus R.A. 3.35.5–6; 11.34.1–6; Arrian Alex. 3.3.6; Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.219–220, 267, 286;

2.8–27, 82, 148; Life 342, 350; Acts 26:8).

191 E.g., 1 Kgs 14:19, 29; 2 Kgs 23:28; 1 Chr 27:24; 29:29; 2 Macc 2:24–25; Dionysius of

Halicarnassus R.A. 1.6.1; Arrian Alex. 6.2.4; Plutarch Alex. 31.2. Rabbis, too, emphasized citing

sources for traditions (e.g., m. Abot 6:6; b. Nid. 19b). Even a novelist might occasionally remember

to provide verisimilitude by providing a source (Apuleius Metam. 9.30).

192 E.g., Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.87.4; 3.35.1–4; 8.79.1; Livy 9.44.6; 23.19.17;

25.17.1–6; Appian R.H. 11.9.56; 12.1.1; Plutarch Alex. 31.3; 38.4; Demosth. 5.5; 29.4–30.4; Them.

25.1–2; 27.1; 32.3–4; Apollodorus 1.4.3; 1.5.2; 1.9.15, 19; 2.3.1; 2.5.11; Ovid Fasti 6.1–2, 97–100;

Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.4.570; Pausanias 2.5.5; 2.26.3–7; Arrian Alex. 4.9.2–3; 4.14.1–4; 5.3.1;

5.14.4; 7.14.2; 7.27.1–3; Herodian 7.9.4; 7.9.9; Cornelius Nepos 7 (Alcibiades), 11.1; 9 (Conon), 5.4;

p. So¤ah 9:13, §2; see further Livy in LCL 12:320 n. 2. Occasionally historians also found ways to har-

monize traditions (Diodorus Siculus 4.4.1–5). Outside history, see, e.g., Contest of Homer and

Hesiod 323; Parthenius L.R. 11.1–3; 14.5. Cf. Ovid’s account of Lichas’s end (Metam. 9.225), which

diverges from Sophocles Trach. 777–782; he claims dependence on prior tradition, but his emphasis

on metamorphoses certainly accounts for which tradition he prefers!

193 Arrian Alex. 1.pref.1.

194 Arrian Alex. 3.3.6.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

more popular and less careful writer than some others, rarely cites his sources (and often

confuses his data), but he mentions them occasionally when they diverge (e.g., 5.7.ext.1;

6.8.3). Earlier exaggerated contrasts between elite and popular literature aside, the Gospels

(to some extent with the exception of Luke) do not reflect an elite audience.

Often ancient writers cited sources, however, only when various sources disagreed (or

when the writer wished to criticize them).195 The Gospels do not explicitly cite sources,

perhaps in part because of their relatively popular level but also probably in part because

they report recent events on which sources have not yet diverged greatly (like, e.g., Tacitus,

who naturally does not need to cite many sources on his father-in-law Agricola). It is pos-

sible that they also follow some Jewish conventions on this point; in some such works we

can identify the sources only because they are extant (e.g., 1 Esdras blends Chronicles,

Ezra, and Nehemiah with some midrash).196 Including material missing from earlier ex-

tant sources is not necessarily a sign of fabrication. A writer providing information miss-

ing in some earlier historians sometimes was drawing from sources unavailable to the

other historians, whether those sources were written, oral, or both.197

3. Evaluating the Accuracy of Particular Works

Although we often lack direct access to firsthand ancient sources, we can look to the

ancient historical writers who still had access to such sources, then test them to deter-

mine the degree of their fidelity to those sources. Comparing different ancient historians

such as Herodian and Dio Cassius turns up discrepancies, but also confirms that

both use substantial historical data.198 Suchacomparisonwillalsorevealthatsuchwrit-

ersdidnotalwayschoosetocoverthesameground;thus,forexample,therearemany

omissions in Herodian, but hints of the information suggest that he did not lack the in-

formation itself.199

Althoughancienthistoriansdidnotalwayshaveaccesstothebestsourcesforearlier

eras, their treatment of more recent history was more dependable. The Roman historian

Tacitus, for instance, recorded much of the history of first-century Rome, often using im-

perial annals.200 He is widely regarded as one of the most reliable sources for the history of

this period. When Tacitus wrote biography, he maintained the same standard he had up-

held in writing Roman history: although his Agricola, a biography of his father-in-law, has

a particular agenda (to praise his father-in-law while condemning the depravity of the

Flavian era), it is certainly historically reliable. Indeed, Tacitus as Agricola’s son-in-law also

had firsthand acquaintance with the data he reported.

Other historians reporting contemporary or recent events were also substantially re-

liable, although one must consider how critically each writer used his sources and how

freely he adapted them. Suetonius’s biographies of the twelve Caesars provide critical in-

formation to modern historians of antiquity; they are less reliable than Tacitus, but

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

195 See Hemer, Acts, 65.

196 Josephus does not always state his sources, Nicolas of Damascus being an important excep-

tion; even Livy can mention that there are many sources while citing only one (Livy 42.11.1).

197 Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.6.1, 3. Oral and written traditions sometimes overlapped

(Jeremias in Hennecke, Apocrypha, 1:95).

198 Whittaker, “Introduction,” xlv–xlviii.

199 Ibid., xlviii–lii.

200 Ancients also accepted historical sources that were not annalistic, year-by-year reports

(Aulus Gellius 5.18.6–7).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

where Suetonius errs it is generally by depending too uncritically on his sources, not by

fabricating material. Other historians and biographers, like Livy and Plutarch, took

much more freedom to moralize and spice up their narratives. Similarly, Lucan’s war po-

etry could play on the grotesque yet impossible images of his tradition.201 But, as noted

above, even Plutarch plainly believes that he is using historical data to make his moral

points, and his record frequently parallels other historical sources. Historians did make

errors,202 but could expect their successors to expose their errors when discovered

(Diodorus Siculus 4.56.7–8).

Josephus may provide an example of a freer historian. Josephus’s history and autobiog-

raphy are dominated by his apologetic Tendenz.203 Crossan wryly but accurately remarks of

Josephus’s War, “Nobody from the highest aristocracy on either side is guilty of anything.”204

Even many of his adaptations of biblical accounts emphasize points pleasing to his Roman

sponsors and Gentile audience.205 Nevertheless, archaeology confirms that he usually gets

right even many minor details unaffected by this Tendenz, even to the color of paint on

Herod’s bedroom wall206 (although his accuracy has exceptions).207 Inscriptions likewise

sometimesconfirmhisaccuracyondisputeddetails,againstotherhistorians.

208 He retells

the same event in different ways in different books, a practice that does not suggest that the

event never happened, but that he presents it from a different perspective.209 While not striv-

INTRODUCTION

201 Because weapons pierced Catus from both sides, the blood did not know which way to flow

(Lucan C.W. 3.586–591).

202 E.g., Dio Cassius 48.26.2 (see LCL note), contradicting Josephus (who was earlier; Josephus

Ant. 14.359–369; War 1.268–273) and himself (Dio Cassius 49.22.6); Herodian 3.4.3 (see LCL n. 1);

3.9.3 (LCL n. 3).

203 As often noted (e.g., Harrington, “Bible,” 245; Sanders, Judaism, 6; on the autobiography,

Mason, Josephus and NT,41–42, 73–76). Clearly Josephus exaggerated in his own interests, though

we (with Krieger, “Verwandter”) are not sure that he did not belong to the priestly aristocracy.

204 Crossan, Jesus, 93. Josephus had too much to lose to tell the truth in all respects. Sometimes

the Romans apparently accepted the excuse that a small band had forced others to resist Rome (Livy

24.47.6, 213 B.C.E.).

205 Cf., e.g., Begg, “Amaziah,” “Nahum,” and “Uzziah”; Feldman, “Asa,” “Ezra,” “Joseph,”

“Manasseh,” “Pharaohs”; cf. also the transformation of Ahasuerus into a fully positive character in

Josephus Ant. 11 (Feldman, “Ahasuerus”). Begg, “Gedaliah,” suggests that some of Josephus’s re-

ports may also reflect influence from his experience. Not all changes stem from this motive; it is

unlikely that Josephus avoids Nineveh’s repentance because of Roman antiproselytism views (Feld-

man, “Jonah”), given his reports of many conversions elsewhere, and still less likely are some paral-

lels drawn between the Jonah story and the Argonautica (Hamel, “Argo”).

206 E.g., Syon, “Gamla”; Cotton and Geiger, “Yyn”; Mazar, “Josephus”; Feldman, “Intro-

duction,” 45–46; Thackeray, Josephus, 49. Cf. also Josephus’s claims concerning an Essene

gate (War 5.142–45), in Riesner, “Gate”; Pixner, “Gate”; Pixner, Chen, and Margalit, “Zion.” If

one ignores his use of numbers (population estimates and distances), topographic confirma-

tions show him generally reliable (Safrai, “Description”). Ancient speech-writing conventions al-

lowed more compositional flexibility in speeches, which Josephus utilized freely; but form

criticism has demonstrated that the Gospel traditions serve a different purpose; see on the sayings

tradition, below.

207 Fischer and Stein, “Marble.”Less demonstrably, some have suggested that his use of conven-

tional forms in his suicide accounts militates against the accuracy of his battle suicides (Newell,

“Forms”).

208 Cf. Kokkinos, “Felix.”

209 Wright, People of God, 378, also comparing Luke 24:51; Acts 1:3. Cf. also the divergent de-

tails in Josephus and Philo on the same events (Theissen, Gospels, 149). Josephus follows but appar-

ently modifies some literary sources (see Pucci Ben Zeev, “Reliability”).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

ing for modern standards of historical accuracy, “wherever he can be tested, he can be seen

to have been a pretty fair historian.”210

While adding details and perspectives, he even retains the stories of David’s sin with

Bathsheba (Ant 7.130–131) and Uriah’s murder (7.131–146), though—perhaps with an eye

toward anti-Judaic polemic like Apion’s sources—he omits the episode of the golden calf

(Ant. 3.95–99). Yet this “substantial” accuracy hardly keeps him from interpreting his

sources in strategic ways for his Hellenistic audience. After promising to add nothing to Mo-

ses’ laws (Ant. 4.196), he finds in Moses’ laws a specific prohibition against theft from pagan

temples (Ant. 4.207), a prohibition against women’s testimony (Ant. 4.219) and the require-

ment of seven judges per city (Ant. 4.214). Numerous studies have traced Josephus’s adapta-

tion of biblical accounts, but whereas the degree of adaptation varies from one account to

another, one should also note the degree of fidelity to the basic biblical account.211

That the Gospels purport to be historical biography is clear, but this does not by itself

confirm the reliability of all details or even the reliability of the sources the Gospels use. That

theGospelsuserecenttraditionsandthatthosewhichcanbechecked(especiallyLuke)are

careful in their use of sources suggests that the Gospels should be placed among the most,

rather the least, reliable of ancient biographies. We will consider this issue further after sur-

veying Jewish biographical conventions and their penchant for haggadic expansion.

4. Jewish Biographical Conventions

Penned in Greek, probably to Diaspora audiences, the canonical gospels reflect Greco-

Roman rather than strictly Palestinian Jewish literary conventions.212 That is, they share

more external characteristics with Diaspora or aristocratic Palestinian Jewish biographies

in Greek than they do with many of the Palestinian works composed in Hebrew or Ara-

maic. Such a statement does not, however, detract from the Jewishness of the Gospels,

since Jewish historical writing in Greek generally adopted Greek historiographic conven-

tions, as suggested below for Josephus.213 In contrast to other Greco-Roman biographies,

however, the Gospels, like Diaspora Jewish historical texts, show considerable stylistic and

theological influence from the LXX. Further, the Gospels vary among themselves in the de-

gree of their Palestinian character: Matthew and John, whose readers apparently have

closer continuing ties with Palestinian Judaism, probably reflect more Palestinian literary

influences than Mark and Luke.214

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

210 Sanders, Judaism, 6. Many claims against his reliability are overstated; see, e.g., Rajak,

Josephus, 9–10.

211 For specific examples of Josephus’s adaptations, see, e.g., Begg, “Jotham,” “Fall,” “Putsch,”

and “Jehoahaz” (improving the character); Feldman, “Elijah,” and other articles by Feldman noted

above; Gafni, “Josephus,” 126–27. In Josephus’s case, the claim not to have added or omitted any-

thing seems pure convention, however (Feldman, “Hellenizations,” 133).

212 Bultmann, Tradition, 369, exaggerated their Hellenistic character (though allowing some

Palestinian tradition); contrast Barrett, Jesus, 6. Aune explains Gospel biography by deliberately

“oversimplifying” it as exhibiting “Hellenistic form and function with Jewish content” (Environ-

ment, 22). Hellenistic narrative techniques were standard in Jewish documents written in Greek

(e.g., Cohen, Maccabees, 43).

213 Greek conventions for praising heroes or deities were also sometimes transferred to Jewish

heroes; cf., e.g., Van der Horst, “Children.”

214 This is not to deny that the latter depend on ultimate Palestinian sources (Hengel, “Prob-

lems,” 238–43, for example, supports the ancient tradition of Mark’s dependence on Peter) but to

argue that they articulate their Gospels for a more pluralistic milieu.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

The methodology of Hebrew and Aramaic Palestinian Jewish texts concerning histor-

ical figures diverges at significant points from that of Greco-Roman historical writing.

Since the Palestinian Jewish roots of the Jesus movement affected Diaspora Christianity, a

brief consideration of Jewish biographical conventions may be useful in discussing the tra-

ditions behind the Gospels. Failing this, yet more importantly for our purposes, they may

be useful in understanding literary techniques particularly adapted by Matthew and John.

Although many individuals feature prominently in the Hebrew Bible and in early

Jewishliterature,onlyrarelyisadocumentdevotedtoapersoninsuchawaythatit

would be called biography in the sense discussed above; usually the treatment of an indi-

vidualispartofalargernarrative.Job,Ruth,Judith,Jonah,Esther,Daniel,andTobitall

have books about them in the Greek Bible, but the events rather than the characters

dominate the accounts.215

Thevariousreportsofeventsinthelivesofpiousrabbisaretoopiecemealtosupply

parallels to biographies like the Gospels,216 but it is possible that some of these stories were

collected and told together like some of the brief philosophical lives in Diogenes Laertius.

Since no such early collections are extant, however,217 rabbinic sources can add little to our

discussion of Jewish “biography.” In contrast to Josephus or Tacitus, rabbinic texts are pri-

marily legal, and incidental biographical information tends to serve more purely homiletical

than historical purposes.218

Some Jewish writers did compose self-contained biographies, though again, not all of

them fit the conventions discussed above. Philo’s expositions of Abraham, Joseph, and

Moses idealize the figures only to communicate Philo’s philosophical lessons,219 though

this observation does not negate the evidence for his use of Hellenistic biographical con-

ventions.220 A collection called the Lives of the Prophets, with genre parallels in the Greek

lives of poets, resembles the briefer lives.221 Josephus’s accounts about Moses in his Antiq-

uities often follow Hellenistic philosophical biography222 and novelistic conventions;223 so

INTRODUCTION

215 Stanton, Jesus, 126; Aune, Environment, 37. Granted, the Gospels could draw on biblical

narratives focused on persons as well as on Hellenistic sources (Hengel, “Problems,” 219–20); but

the suggestion that ancient Near Eastern models provided the later Greek emphasis on individual

characters (cf. Dihle, “Biography,” 366–67) is overstated.

216 Against Bultmann, Tradition, 57. Gerhardsson, Memory, 181–89, comments on narrative in

rabbinic tradition, since disciples learned from their teachers’ lives as well as from their words; but

as Gundry (“Genre,” 101) points out, this still does not correspond to what we have in the Gospels,

nor to the enormous tradition that must stand behind them.

217 Neusner, Biography, is skeptical even of the attributed sayings. There is certainly nothing

comparable to the early nineteenth-century collection of tales, “In Praise of the Baal Shem Tov,”

available in English in Ben-Amos and Mintz, Baal Shem Tov.

218 Neusner, Legend, 8.

219 Stanton, Jesus, 127.

220 Cf. Canevet, “Genre” (Moses as commander-in-chief). Like other Hellenistic Jewish writers,

Philo adjusts biblical accounts where necessary to suit his idealization of virtues; cf. Petit, “Exem-

plaire.” Philo can nevertheless prove accurate when reporting events surrounding more recent per-

sonages (Smallwood, “Historians”).

221 Aune, Environment, 41–42.

222 Van Veldhuizen, “Moses,” 215–24.

223 Silver, “Moses” (on Josephus Ant. 2:243–253 and Artapanus in Eusebius Praep. ev. 9.27).

Runnalls, “Campaign,” suggests that Josephus indirectly challenged Artapanus’s account; but the

use of the same tradition demonstrates the inroads that Hellenism had made into Moses haggadah

(cf. Rajak, “Moses”). Aristobulus (second century B.C.E.) frg. 4 (Eusebius Praep. ev. 13.13.5) possibly

divinizes Moses with the vision of God. Some Jewish writers may adapt Orphean and Heraclean

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

also his treatment of Jacob,224 Joseph,225 Samson,226 Saul,227 Zedekiah,228 and the Akedah

narrative.229 Thus Cohen lists both 2 Maccabees and Josephus among Jewish works of his-

tory owing “more to Herodotus, Thucydides, and Hellenistic historiography than to Kings

and Chronicles.”230

But parallels with broader classes of Jewish narrative literature can also provide in-

sight into Jewish historiographic and novelistic methods. In Aramaic and Hebrew as well

as in Greek, such texts could combine both historiographic and novelistic traits without

apology, depending on the nature of the text in question. Biblical narratives were often

adapted by later storytellers and eventually formalized into separate accounts;231 storytell-

ers especially favored Pentateuchal characters for this sort of development.232

Although these reworkings are not strictly midrash nor Targum,233 certain midrashic

or haggadic principles are sometimes at work in their composition.234 Some, like Pseudo-

Philo’s Biblical Antiquities (L.A.B.), follow the biblical text very careful (often virtually

quoting the text), though adding many details.235 Others, like Assumption of Moses,

have very little to do with the biblical text beyond the characters and a basic story line. The

degree of freedom depended also on the nature of one’s work: whereas the LXX preserves

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

motifs (cf. Philonenko, “Juda”), and some euhemeristically identify pagan figures with biblical ones

(e.g., Ps-Eupolemus in Eusebius Praep. ev. 9.17.9).

224 Feldman, “Jacob.”

225 Aune, Environment, 107.

226 Feldman, “Samson.”

227 Feldman, “Saul.”

228 Begg, “Zedekiah,” argues that Josephus portrays him as something of a tragic hero, follow-

ing Aristotelian conventions.

229 Feldman, “‘Aqedah.” Joshua may become a Jewish Pericles (Feldman, “Joshua”). See other

citations from Feldman above.

230 Maccabees, 194; cf. in general Attridge, “Historiography,” 326; cf. Eisman, “Dio and

Josephus.” Even his apology for his “substandard” Greek fits rhetorical conventions for lowering au-

dience expectations and may be compared with Anacharsis’s reported apology to the Athenians

(Anacharsis Epistles 1.1–6). Other Hellenistic Jewish historians probably employed similar tech-

niques (cf. Rajak, “Justus of Tiberias,” 92). Egyptians and Babylonians likewise sought to present

their histories in Greek in that period of Hellenistic cultural dominance (Bartlett, Jews, 7).

231 See, e.g., Fisk, “Bible”; Harrington, “Bible.” Harrington, 242–43, does not think these

reworkings constitute a distinct genre, since some (like Jubilees and Assumption of Moses) purport

to be apocalypses, while others (he gives Chronicles as an example) purport to be straightforward

historical narrative.

232 Cf. Jubilees; Life of Adam and Eve; Assumption of Moses; History of Joseph (of indefinite date);

L.A.B. (which proceeds through 2 Sam. 1); Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs; 1–3 Enoch (esp. the

Book of Noah in 1Enoch); 1Q19 (1QNoah; related to 1En.8:4; 9:4; 106:9–10; see Fitzmyer, Scrolls,

16); 4Q459; Genesis Apocryphon; cf. Yadin, “Commentaries.” Some of those from Qumran are prob-

ably pre-Qumranian (Milik, “Ecrits”).

233 Harrington, “Bible,” 242.

234 On Life of Adam and Eve cf. Johnson, “Adam,” 252; L.A.B. borrowslinesfromotherpassages

of Scripture; etc. Goulder, Midrash, 30, is probably right when he argues that midrash is creative, but

it seemed to the rabbis who engaged in it as if they were deriving all their data from inferences in the

text; in many cases, however, antecedent interpretive traditions may be verified from other sources

(e.g., postbiblical traditions in Theodotus; cf. Fallon, “Theodotus,” 786). Haggadic traditions were

probably more easily remembered than halakic ones (Gerhardsson, Memory, 147).

235 OnthenatureofJubilees’ revision of Genesis and Exodus, see Vanderkam, “Jubilees.” Helle-

nistic writers like Hecataeus and Manetho had adapted earlier history to meet the contemporary

needs, and it is not surprising that Jewish writers of this period sometimes did the same (Mendels,

“History”).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

incidents of patriarchal deception, Philo and apocryphal works often played down such

deception, and Josephus took a middle path.236 We find a continuum between historical

works and novels composed around historical characters, and can best distinguish the two

by evaluating their measure of fidelity to sources the writers accepted as historically

accurate, especially the OT.

Like other Greco-Roman literature, ancient Jewish literature generally permitted vari-

ation in detail. Although amplification in matters of halakah was sometimes discouraged,237

the practice was especially frequent in narratives, to answer questions posed by a narra-

tive238 ortoheightenthepraiseofGodortheprotagonist,

239 sometimes by fanciful

midrash.240 Sometimes writers added details for literary purposes, to make a better story;241

this could include names,242 sometimes arrived at midrashically or for symbolic value.243

(This practice is hardly surprising; Greeks also elaborated their sacred stories, filling in de-

tailsoverthecenturies.)

244 One could emphasize a theme already present in one’s source

by reiterating it where it appeared and occasionally adding it elsewhere.245 Similarly, nega-

tive incidents could be toned down,246 omitted,247 or justified248 in the character’s favor.

INTRODUCTION

236 Freund, “Deception.”

237 ÂAbot R. Nat. 1 A. What would have been considered explanatory amplification of the words

of sages was, however, part of the scribe’s traditional vocation (Meeks, Moral World, 117, on Sir

39:1–2).

238 E.g., Demetrius the Chronographer (third century B.C.E.), frg. 5 (Eusebius Praep. ev.

9.29.16); Jub. 4:1, 9; 12:14; 13:11; 27:1, 4–5 (Esau and Jacob, vs. Isaac and Jacob); p. Ketub. 12:4, §8

(fanciful midrash).

239 2 Macc 2:1–8 (expanding Jeremiah’s mission); Jub. 29:14–20 (rhetorically contrasts Jacob’s

respect for his parents with Esau’s disrespect); T. Job 9–15 (see OTP 1:832); T. Jos. 3:1; cf. Josephus’s

expansion of Philistine casualties (Ant. 6.203; cf. 1 Sam 18:27, though the LXX reduced them).

240 Pesiq. Rab Kah. 4:3 (“the rabbis” on Solomon); Gen. Rab. 43:3; Exod. Rab. 10:4; Pesiq. Rab.

49:5; cf. Artapanus on Pharaoh’s behavior toward Moses in light of 1 Sam 18:17, 21–25 (Eusebius

Praep. ev. 9.27.7). Genre conventions also could dictate amplifications; Joseph and Aseneth, aHelle-

nistic romance, incorporates features ideal in such romances.

241 Jub. 11:14–15; 13:18, 22; possibly 4Q160, frg. 3–5, 7; Tg. Ps.-J. on Gen 50:26; Tg. Ps.-J. on

Exod 13:19.

242 Jub. 11:14–15; Liv. Pro. 19 (Joad) (§30 in Schermann’s Greek text); Josephus Ant. 8.231;

L.A.B. 40:1 (on Pseudo-Philo in general, cf. Bauckham, “‘Midrash,’” 67); Plutarch Alex. 20.4–5

(questioning Chares’ report).

243 See Rook, “Names,” on patriarchal wives in Jubilees.

244 See the discussion in Maclean and Aitken, Heroikos, li–lii.

245 As L.A.B. does in its polemic against idolatry (Murphy, “Idolatry”).

246 L.A.B. 12:2–3 (Aaron’s sin with the golden calf). T. Job 39:12–13 (OTP)/39:9–10 (Kraft),

40:3/4 seems concerned to soften God letting Job’s children die for his test.

247 Jub. 13:17–18 (conflict between Lot’s and Abram’s servants), 14:21–16:22 (omitting Sarah’s

problems with Hagar, though they surface in 17:4–14), 29:13 (omits Jacob’s fear); T. Zeb. 1:5–7

(Zebulon did not act against Joseph). On Jubilees (e.g., Abram passing off his sister as his wife), see

Wintermute, “Jubilees,” 35–36; Josephus, cf. Aune, Environment, 108; in Greco-Roman literature,

see Shuler, Genre, 50 (following Cicero Part. or. 22). The same tendency of tradition may be noted in

the Chronicler’s omission not only of David’s but also Solomon’s sins reported in Samuel-Kings

(cf., e.g., Williamson, Chronicles, 236).

248 CD 4:20–5:3 (David’s polygamy); Jub. 19:15–16 (Rebekah, in light of current morality);

27:6–7 (how Jacob could leave his father); 28:6–7 (Jacob’s sororal polygyny); 30:2–17 (Simeon and

Levi); 41 (Judah and Tamar both made more innocent, though Tamar’s deed is interpreted as

deathworthy); 1QapGen 20.10–11 (Sarah rather than Abraham proposes the pretense that she is his

sister); Jos. Asen. 23 (Levi and Simeon); T. Jud. 8–12 (whitewashing Judah, and to a lesser extent

Tamar, though Judah confesses it as a lesser sin; cf. the improvement of both in Tg. Neof. 1onGen

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

This could range from the sort of “twist” on a narrative acceptable in modern journalism

to fabricating details to explain what was not said. While John, like the Synoptics, is far

more like Greco-Roman biography than like such “rewritten” biblical accounts, these Pal-

estinian Jewish narrative techniques must also be considered as part of his general milieu.

Variations in the tradition and/or its editing in these sources were also not problem-

atic;249 a greater degree of freedom in telling the story was then permitted than is standard

in historically-oriented works today. As Anderson says about 4 Maccabees, “the discrepan-

cies between the descriptions of the tortures administered to the first son and the other six,

here and in 2 Mac, indicate no more than that the story circulated in different forms or

that each writer claimed his freedom to shape up the narrative in his own way.”250

Thus a wide variety of writing techniques was available in ancient Jewish as well as

broader Greco-Roman writing related to history, and the Gospels could fall anywhere in

this range. Intending to be essentially historical in the events they report, in principle they

could vary in the accuracy of their details.251 Further, as we noted above, paraphrase of

sayings was standard Greco-Roman rhetorical practice; Jewish interpreters also regularly

employed paraphrase in communicating what they took to be the biblical text’s mean-

ing,252 a practice some interpreters deem relevant to understanding John’s relation to the

earlier Gospel tradition.253

The Gospels as Historical Biography

Although all ancient biographers attempted to write historical accounts, some suc-

ceeded at this enterprise better than others. Factors that affected their reliability include how

recently the events described occurred, and how closely the writer followed his sources.

In contrast to the contention of some early form critics,254 early Christians were un-

doubtedly interested in the life and character of Jesus from the beginning.255 It is interest-

ing that, by contrast, Qumran literature has thus far provided no sustained account of the

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

38:25; Tg. Ps.-J. on Gen 38:25–26); T. Iss. 3:1 (cf. Gen 49:15); Tg. Ps.-J. on Gen 49:28 (all twelve patri-

archs were equally righteous).

249 Cf. the variant forms of some sayings in Ahiqar (OTP 2:482).

250 Anderson, “4 Maccabees,” 555. Here the freedom is probably that of the author of

4 Maccabees, who appears to expand earlier sources, whereas 2 Maccabees probably stays closer to

its sources, since it is an abridgement.

251 Cf. Robinson, Problem, 60.

252 Cf., e.g., 4Q422, a homiletic paraphrase of Genesis (Elgvin, “Section”); see further below on

rewritings of biblical history.

253 Chilton, “Transmission”; idem, “Development,” suggests that Gospel traditions were trans-

mitted and developed in ways similar to targumic traditions. For the view that John developed Jesus’

message in a manner analogous to the Targumim, which included interpretive amplification but

sought fidelity to the meaning, see Taylor, Formation, 116.

254 The negative use of the criterion of dissimilarity (as applied to Jesus’ continuity with early

Judaism and early Christianity) has been severely critiqued in recent years: Sanders, Jesus and Juda-

ism, 16; Vermes, Jesus and Judaism, 21; Stanton, Gospels, 161; idem, Gospel Truth, 143; Borg, Conflict,

21; Stein, “‘Criteria,’” 242–43; France, “Authenticity,” 110–11; Catchpole, “Tradition History,”

174–76; Young, Theologian, 257; Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:173; Brown, Death, 1:19.

255 See Stanton, Jesus, 4–9; Chilton, “Exorcism,” 253, against some earlier scholars, contrasts

with modern biography notwithstanding. Skepticism toward traditional form criticism has pre-

vailed especially since Sanders, Tendencies (Theissen, Gospels, 5; Hill, Matthew, 58; Stuhlmacher,

“Theme,” 2–12; cf. Gamble, “Literacy,” 646).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

community’s founder and the events that brought it into existence, although the docu-

ments repeatedly allude to these occurrences. The existence of the Gospels themselves, and

the role assigned to Jesus in them, testify that early Christianity had a greater interest in the

history of its founder than many comparable contemporary movements did.256 As W. D.

Daviesputsit,“Thefirstalternativeistobelievethatforsometimeafterhisdeathandres

urrection what Jesus did and said was neglected and so forgotten,” and as Christians

needed sermon material they “created their own sayings or borrowed material from Jewish

and Hellenistic sources and ascribed them to Jesus. The other alternative is to recognize

that what Jesus actually taught was remembered by his followers and adapted by the

churches as the need arose. On grounds of historical probability, the second alternative is

themorelikelybyfar.”

257

Lukethusmentionsthattherewerealreadymanywrittennarrativesbeforehesetout

to write one of his own (Luke 1:1). Since writers steeped in the OT would want to testify in

historical terms concerning the one they regarded as the fulfillment of Israel’s history, the

nature of gospels was somewhat predetermined from the start. What form would a Gospel

writer have used to describe Jesus’ life even if he wished to avoid the genre of biography?258

Nevertheless,theGospelwriterswouldhaveknownthattheGospelswouldhavebeenread

in the Greco-Roman world as “lives” of Jesus.

The Gospels draw on various Septuagintal,259 contemporary Jewish, and Greco-

Roman narrative conventions to communicate their portrait of Jesus. Whether or not, or

the degree to which, Matthew drew on Jewish midrashic conventions is hotly disputed;260

thereisnoaprioriculturalreasontosupposethathedidnot:

For if even an exacting Greek philosopher could purvey as his master’s teachings his own

highly advanced development of them, how much more might a midrashically, haggadically

oriented Jew do something similar. . . . In the Jewish sphere we find the freedom of midrash

and haggadah alongside careful memorization and passing on of both the written and the

oral law.261

But it should be noted that narratives concerning recent teachers were usually not re-

vised quite as freely as narratives about biblical characters; of many stories about Hanina

ben Dosa, none was clearly composed simply on the basis of OT texts.262 And while Mat-

thew undoubtedly adapts his sources somewhat more freely than does Luke,263 if we may

INTRODUCTION

256 Stanton, Jesus, 128.

257 Davies, Invitation, 115.

258 Cf. Shuler, Genre, 85 (on encomium biography); idem, “Hypothesis.” Shuler asserts that en-

comium biography is the Greco-Roman pattern to which the gospels are closest; cf. the mild cau-

tions of Talbert, Gospel, 13. Most biography was, of course, somewhat encomiastic (Josephus Life

fits this category; see Neyrey, “Encomium”), but writers like Suetonius tend away from this direc-

tion (cf. Talbert, Gospel, 17).

259 E.g., Elisha narratives; cf. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 162.

260 In favor are Goulder, Midrash, passim; Drury, Design, 45 (on gospel redaction in general);

Gundry, Matthew, 628 (citing Jubilees, Josephus, and others who took similar liberties but respected

the biblical text as God’s word). Against are authors such as Scott, “Intention”; Cunningham and

Bock, “Midrash”; Payne, “Midrash.” See especially the reservations of Chilton, “Midrash,” 27–28 on

thenarrowerandbroadersensesof“midrash.”

261 Gundry, Matthew, 622.

262 France, “Historiography,” 114–16. He also points out that writers could draw OT parallels

without revising the narrative (e.g., 1 Macc; ibid., 122).

263 His greatest measure of freedom (and therefore higher level of “Mattheanisms”) may be in

the birth narratives, where his sources may be oral and not already shaped; but, as Soares Prabhu has

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

judge by his use of Mark, he adapts them far less than Josephus, and especially Jubilees and

Pseudo-Philo (L.A.B.), adapt the OT.264

To test the accuracy of the authors of the Synoptic Gospels one must test their use of

sources. Evaluated by this criterion, they appear among the more accurate of ancient histo-

rians.265 One can confirm this relatively easily by examining a collection of Synoptic Gos-

pel parallels. Most scholars agree that the written narratives that Luke included among his

sources (Luke 1:1) included Mark and what has come to be called “Q,”266 although debate

onthenatureof“Q”(asawholedocument,

267 as oral tradition268 or as a composite of

sources)269 continues.270 (SomehaveofferedreconstructionsofQthatarefarmorespe

cific than the evidence warrants;271 Q should not at any rate be used to “reconstruct the

whole theological outlook” of its community.)272

When one examines Luke’s use of these sources, one is repeatedly impressed with his re-

straint. Granted, Matthew and Luke exercise freedom in arranging and editing Mark and

other sources that they share in common; but this editing must be judged minimal by an-

cient standards, not affecting the content as substantially as those who cite this “freedom”

often assume.273 That the Gospel writers themselves saw such variation as within their per-

missible range may be suggested by Luke’s triple recounting of Paul’s conversion with differ-

ences in details each time, though the core of the story remains the same.274 Where Mark

and “Q” overlap (e.g., Mark 1:7–13 with Matt 3:7–4:11/Luke 3:7–17, 4:1–13; Mark 3:22–27

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

shown (Quotations), Matthew’s tradition has shaped the citation of OT texts as much as the texts

have shaped his use of prior tradition.

264 Cf. also France, “Historiography,” 118–19.

265 See especially Luke’s use of Mark; cf., e.g., Perry, Sources, 7, 19–20; Jeremias, Parables, 69;

Ramsay, Luke, 47, 80 (although Ramsay overstates the case). On Mark’s style, see Pryke, Style.

266 Many scholars have been reticent to define Q too narrowly; cf. Burkitt, History, 123; idem,

Sources, 42–43; Dodd, Parables, 39; idem, More Studies, 70; Cadbury, Making, 98; Jeremias, Theology,

38–39. Cf. Koester, Introduction, 2:46, for the likely suggestion that Q was used in various stages of

redaction. See especially the caution of Sanders, Tendencies, 276–79.

267 This is more likely, given the common sequence of Q in Matthew and Luke (though Ellis,

“Criticism,” 35, doubts this common sequence), where Matthew’s topical order does not account for

a variation; cf. also Schweizer, Jesus, 124–25; Tuckett, History, 34–39.

268 Betz, Jesus, 22.

269 Cf. the questions of Gundry, “Genre,” 105 n. 31; Petrie, “Q”; Perry, Sources, 11.

270 Some dispense with Q altogether: Drury, Design, xi, 121; Farrer, “Q”; Abogunrun, “Debate”;

Goulder, “Q,” 234; Farmer, Problem; Longstaff, Conflation, 218; Murray, “Conflator”; Thompson,

Advice (common traditions); Lowe and Flusser, “Synoptic Theory”; Young, Parables, 129–63;

Linneman, “Gospel of Q,” 7–11. Such suggestions have, however, been vigorously contested (cf.

Martin, “Q”; Grant, “Clock”; idem, Hellenism, 120; see esp. Tuckett, History, 1–39).

271 E.g., Edwards, Concordance; idem, Theology of Q; esp. Mack, Myth, 69, 84; idem, Lost Gospel,

6, 73–80. Mack and others create an “early” recension of Q that fits their hypothetical reconstruc-

tion of early Christianity, but this approach is circular, as most scholars would acknowledge (see

Overman, “Deciphering,” 193; Witherington, Sage, 215; Johnson, Real Jesus, 52–53; Meier, Marginal

Jew, 2:177–80; Stanton, Gospel Truth, 73–74; Theissen, Gospels, 204; Catchpole, Quest, 6; Boyd, Sage,

136–39; Keener, “Critique”).

272 Stanton, Jesus, 5; Hengel, Atonement, 35; Aune, Prophecy, 213; Keck, “Ethos,” 448; Wither-

ington, Christology, 223; idem, Sage, 211–12. Q’s theology probably does not differ appreciably from

Mark’s (Meadors, “Orthodoxy”; cf. Witherington, Sage, 233–36).

273 Compare Josephus’s demonstrable additions, omissions, conflations, and rearrangement,

some of which is similar to, and some of which contrasts with, what we know of the Gospels from

redaction critics; cf. the data in Downing, “Redaction Criticism.”

274 See the discussion in Dunn, Acts, 117; he notes, however, that the words of dialogue remain

identical each time (p. 121). Cf. also Luke 24:47–51; Acts 1:8–11.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

with Matt 12:24–30/Luke 11:15–23), one gains a similar impression of Mark’s faithfulness to

the preexisting tradition.275 Although the differences in the accounts may be more striking

to a reader accustomed to harmonizing the Gospels, the points of comparison are generally

far more striking when one takes into account that the first three gospels were written at dif-

ferent times, from different possible sources, and to different audiences.

Furthermore, even at their latest possible date of composition, they derive from a

period close to the events, when the influence of eyewitnesses of the events remained

prominent in the early church. Some scholars may place the dates too early, but even on

the consensus datings of the Gospels, they must stem from a period when eyewitness testi-

mony remained central to the church,276 and at least Luke seems to have had direct access

to eyewitness corroboration for some of his traditional material (1:1–4). Ancient rhetori-

cians regularly attack the credibility of witnesses for a contrary position (e.g., Josephus Life

356), and courts sometimes dismissed the reliability of some kinds of witnesses on ac-

countoftheirgenderorsocialstatus.

277 Onewould,however,behard-pressedtoviewthe

earliest disciples’witness as fabrication, given the price they were prepared to pay for it.278

Luke also claims to have investigated matters thoroughly (1:3). Historians valued such

investigation, which often included traveling to the places where events had reportedly oc-

curred,279 and criticized those who failed to accomplish it as well as possible.280 Whereas

Roman historians consulted records, the Greek model normally entailed travel and con-

sulting with available eyewitnesses,281 although many even in the eastern Mediterranean

fell short of this ideal. Evidence strongly suggests that Luke fits the more reliable end of the

spectrum.282 Luke’s claim to investigation and his dependence on available eyewitness tra-

dition are especially likely if the “we” sections in Acts, which include a meeting with James

the Lord’s brother in Jerusalem (Acts 21:17–18), may be attributed to the author and not

to someone else’s travel journal283 or to a fictitious literary device.284 Whereas “we” ap-

INTRODUCTION

275 Cf. Bultmann, Tradition, 13; Wenham, “Note”; Peabody, “Tradition.” Jacobson, “Q,” argues

that Mark and Q indicate separate traditions. While this is true for the most part, Mark may have

used Q, adopting some material from it (cf. Catchpole, “Beginning”); Q is probably pre-Markan

(see Theissen, Gospels, 232). For various agreements of Matthew and Luke against Mark, see

Neirynck, Agreements.

276 Some recent scholars have dated the Gospels quite early; see, e.g., Robinson, Redating;

Wenham, “Gospel Origins”; Carson, Moo, and Morris, Introduction (79, 99, 117, 167). Although I

am personally inclined to date only Mark before 70 C.E. (Luke perhaps in the early 70s; Matthew the

late 70s), in general arguments concerning the situation and date of the Synoptics lack the objective

data supporting those of most NT epistles; arguments advanced for earlier dates thus merit more se-

rious consideration than they usually receive.

277 E.g., Justinian Inst. 2.10.6; Josephus Ant. 4.219; Sipra VDDeho. pq. 7.45.1.1.

278 Cf., e.g., Paul’s appeals to public knowledge of his sufferings (1 Cor 4:11–13; 15:30; Phil 1:7;

1 Thess 2:2, 9), though he had much to lose (Gal 1:13–14, 23–24).

279 Appian R.H. pref.12. If the events were recent, it could include interviewing eyewitnesses

(Thucydides 1.22.2–3; cf. Xenophon Apol. 2; Plutarch Demosth. 2.1–2); prosecutors preparing cases

also did such research (Lysias Or. 23.2–8, §§166–167).

280 Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 7.1.4, 6; Herodian 1.1.1–2; cf. Sallust Catil. 3.2.

281 Polybius 12.25d.1–12.25e.7 critiques Timaeus for failing to do research beyond the many

documents available to him and (for the sake of his critique) even ranks field research and interpre-

tive political context above documents (12.25i.2).

282 See Witherington, Acts, 26–34.

283 That Luke uses diary extracts (Foakes-Jackson and Lake, “Evidence,” 158–59; MacGregor in

Morton and MacGregor, Structure, 41; Cadbury, Making, 60–61; Dockx, “Compagnon”) is prob-

able, given the precision of his details.

284 Dibelius, Studies, 202–3.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

pears in novelistic texts, it appears no less in historical texts; its function depended on the

genre of the text.285 Further, the “we” sections in Acts may well reflect a travel journal, but

it was far more likely Luke’s own than another’s, for Luke is too skilled a writer to leave a

secondary source in his narrative unedited. Given the correspondence of the “we” sections

to appropriate geographical intervals (16:11–18, 20:6) and the lack of emphasis the writer

gives to his own presence (although known to his patron Theophilus and perhaps his im-

plied audience, he remains in the background and appears rarely), the “we” most likely

means, as ancient readers would have normally understood, “we.”286 If “we” includes

theauthororevenidentifiesmerelyaneyewitnesssource,Lukemaybeacceptedasallthe

more dependable.

Like some other early Christian writers (Acts 26:26; 1 Cor 15:6; 2 Cor 12:12), Luke also

appeals to “public knowledge” (1:4); he has investigated these matters, but his audience, in-

cluding his probable patron Theophilus, already has some knowledge about them. Appeals

to public knowledge such as that contained in documents,287 claims offered among those

who could have refuted them (such as the living eyewitnesses in positions of prominence in

the church; cf. Gal 2:9),288 or appeals simply to what was widely known (e.g., Josephus Ag.

Ap. 2.107; Xenophon Agesilaus 5.6) carried tremendous rhetorical weight.

Whatever else may be said about the Fourth Gospel’s genre, it must fall into the same

broad category as the Synoptics;289 whileitmaybestrictlyindependentfromtheSynoptics

(see comments below), it is unlikely that John developed the gospel form independently,

and it strains credulity to think that Johannine Christians in either Asia or Syria would be

unaware of other written gospels circulating in the Christian communities. (Mark, at least,

had circulated for two to three decades, was widespread enough to serve as a major source

for Matthew and Luke, and was probably not alone; cf. Luke 1:1.) The genre of the Synop-

tics is clearly historical biography,290 sothesamewouldlikelyfollowforJohn.

291

That the Synoptic Gospels represent substantial historical data does not, however,

demonstrate the degree of the historical character of the Fourth Gospel. Each of the four

canonical gospels applies the biographical genre slightly differently,292 just as many differ-

ent Lives even in Plutarch vary to some degree in content.293 The Fourth Gospel in some

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

285 Cf. Aune, Environment, 124. For instance, “we” is fictitious in the Pseudo-Clementines be-

cause the narrative is fictitious, but the author was clearly present in the narrative world; since the

account in Plutarch Dinner of Seven Wise Men 1, Mor. 146BC, takes place centuries before Plutarch’s

birth, readers again would have recognized it as a literary fiction.

286 See Dupont, Sources, 167–68; Munck, Acts, xliii; Fusco, “Sezioni-noi”; cf. Ramsay, Luke,

17–18. Maddox, Purpose, 7, cites the famed classicist A. D. Nock as regarding the allegedly fictitious

“we” of Acts as “virtually unparalleled and most improbable for a writer who makes as much claim

as Luke does to historiography.”

287 E.g., Josephus Life 342; Ag. Ap. 1.20, 23, 28–29. On the lack of public archives in the modern

sense in republican Rome (though texts were deposited), see Culham, “Archives.”

288 Also for other historical matters, e.g., Josephus Life 363–366; Ag. Ap. 1.50–52; Xenophon

Agesilaus 3.1. Such appeals also appeared in fiction, but the purported evidence should be consid-

ered as authentic within their story world (see Philostratus Hrk. 8.12, 14, 17).

289 E.g., Stibbe, Gospel, 55.

290 Ibid., 55–57; see discussion above; Keener, Matthew, 8–36, 51–68.

291 Stibbe, Gospel, 57–59. He concedes that John reapplies Mosaic and Elijah traditions

(pp. 59–60) but argues that John employs both biblical and Hellenistic biographical techniques

(pp. 60–63).

292 Cf. the rhetorical differences noted by Kennedy, “Rhetoric of Gospels.”

293 Burridge, Gospels, 68–69.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

respects resembles political biographies (as in Cornelius Nepos) because of its polemical

material, and in more respects resembles philosophical biographies (as in Diogenes

Laertius) with their focus on philosophers’ teachings;294 but neither category actually

definesJohn’sspecificgenre.

Neither among the Synoptics nor elsewhere is there a single, precise parallel to John’s

interpretation of Jesus. For example, one could compare John’s interpretive technique with

Josephus. In his Antiquities Josephus interprets Jewish history for a Gentile audience, cre-

ating new speeches where necessary to fit the model of a Hellenistic history. But Josephus

writes for a far more literate and hellenized audience than John does, and writes a Helle-

nistic history, not a biography. Some Jewish works concerning Pentateuchal characters

elaborate fancifully, but where we can test him from Synoptic material, John departs from

the extant Jesus tradition less than these works depart from the biblical text.

Like the Synoptics and other historical works, but in contrast with early Jewish and

Christian novels, John mostly avoids the frequent and imaginative appearances of heav-

enly beings (although John, like most ancient historical works, does not lack supernatu-

ral appearances altogether—cf. 12:28, 20:12). Many early Jewish works give considerable

narrative play to heavenly characters and regularly present God speaking; in the Fourth

Gospel, however, Jesus himself is usually the voice of God. The narrative style might

more resemble Tobit minus supernatural beings like Raphael and Asmodeus, but with

the incarnation added; or like 1 Maccabees if it were biographical rather than historical

monograph. It resembles the historical sections, or sections in his day regarded as histor-

ical sections, in the LXX. John develops a skillful plot from pre-Johannine traditions, yet

also expounds Jesus’ identity more explicitly than the Synoptics do, especially in the dia-

logue and discourse material (which differ from the Synoptics far more than his narra-

tive does). His discourse expositions may follow a freedom allowed by Jewish and other

Greco-Roman historical writers. We will explore below in chapter 7 of our introduction

whether his christological evaluations genuinely cohere with authentic Jesus tradition.

Here we can only pose such questions, and below provide the best answers the data will

allow.

Given its differences from the Synoptics, it is not surprising that the genre of the

Fourth Gospel has been compared with other “gospel” traditions, which exhibit far more

resemblances to novels than to Greco-Roman biography.

Noncanonical Gospel Traditions

The apocryphal gospels tend to display second-century tendencies far removed from a

Palestinian tradition; they exhibit many more clearly secondary and tendentious features

than the earlier gospels ultimately received as canonical by the majority of the church.295

The Gospel of Peter is not docetic and has some apocalyptic elements, but it would be diffi-

cult to argue that this text, with its self-rolling stone, walking cross, and other features

uncharacteristic of the Jesus tradition, is earlier than the canonical gospels.296 The apocry-

INTRODUCTION

294 Cf. Witherington, Wisdom, 4; Culpepper, John, 64–66.

295 See Wright, “Apocryphal Gospels”; cf. Burkitt, Sources, 17; Dibelius, Jesus, 20; Sanders, Fig-

ure, 64. A nongospel narrative, Acts of Paul and Thecla, may display proto-Montanist tendencies; re-

ports of Maximilla’s and Priscilla’s adherence to Montanus (cf. Eusebius Hist. eccl. 5.16) resemble

that of chaste women in these texts who leave husbands to cleave to ministers of the word.

296 Wright, “Apologetic”; cf. Jeremias, Sayings, 17.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

phal gospels seem concerned to fill in missing details of Jesus’ life,297 and in genre are

closer to novels than to biographies.298

With regard to literary form, the gnostic gospels are nothing like the canonical gos-

pels; they are called gospels only because they purport to convey good news.299 Much of

what we find in the gnostic “gospels” are random sayings collections that include both say-

ings of Jesus and later gnosticizing words attributed to him. Most “new” sayings in the

gnostic “gospels” are hardly early, though these collections may preserve or adapt some

agrapha as well as sayings also reported in our canonical gospels;300 the collections as a

whole are tendentious in a gnosticizing (and hence later) direction and lack most of the

sort of early Palestinian Jewish material frequently found in the Synoptics and John.301

Some have argued that apocryphal and gnostic gospels reflect a form earlier than that

of the canonical gospels and similar gospels no longer extant.302

Starting from a study of the apocryphal gospels, Helmut Koester has argued that their forms

are not developments from those of the canonical gospels but are rather related to earlier types

of gospel literature such as sayings collections, aretalogies (miracle collections), and apoca-

lypses. As a result, the Coptic Gospel of Thomas should be seen in a trajectory from Q, the

Infancy Gospel of Thomas from collections like the Johannine Semeia source, and the

Apocryphon of John from revelations like the Apocalypse of John.303

In principle, these genre considerations are not objectionable; sayings collections are

as old as Israelite and other ancient Near Eastern proverbs, ÂAbot, and Greek collections

of philosophers’ witticisms.304 It is not unlikely that the Gospel of Thomas intentionally

follows a similar form as a sayings collection; but acknowledging this does not require

us to retroject incipient gnosticism into earlier Christian sayings collections, or to

imply that the sayings genre was opposed in principle to narrative gospels, as some

scholars have thought.305 Sayings and narratives were regularly reported separately or

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

297 Jeremias, Sayings, 18–19; compare the function of some Jewish haggadic works above.

298 Cf. Aune, Environment, 151–53, especially on apocryphal acts; cf. Bauckham and Porter,

“Apocryphal Gospels,” 71. Koester, “One Jesus,” 158–59, overly skeptical about the canonical gos-

pels, finds barely any historical truth in the apocryphal ones.

299 Jeremias, Sayings, 18; Burridge, Gospels, 249–50; Wright, People of God, 410–11.

300 Though Mack, Lost Gospel, 6, appeals to the massive number of agrapha, most appear in late

documents, and even the small number of agrapha accepted by Jeremias are at most possibly au-

thentic (Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:113). Our very inability to distinguish accurate and inaccurate

agrapha underlines the value of our earlier written documents (Hofius, “Sayings”).

301 Jeremias, Sayings, 26–28; on Thomas, cf. ibid., 18; Stanton, Gospels, 129; Chilton, “Thomas,”

171; Blomberg, “Thomas,” 195–196; idem, “Where,” 24; Wright, People of God, 437–43. See Stanton,

Jesus, 129–35, who addresses very significant contrasts between the canonical gospels and the Gospel

of Thomas (which itself is closer to our canonical samples than other Nag Hammadi material is).

302 Possibly including the Gospel of the Nazarenes (P. Vielhauer in Hennecke, Apocrypha, 1:144),

though this may be a secondary expansion of Matthew into Aramaic (Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:116).

303 Talbert, Gospel, 8–9. Later Koester came to view the canonical gospels as “aretalogical biog-

raphies.” On the assumption that Q was purely a sayings gospel, others have compared it to Thomas;

see, e.g., Mack, Lost Gospel, 182; but cf. Keener, “Critique.”

304 That ÂAbot and wisdom literature share the same rhetorical forms (Gottlieb, “Abot”) sup-

ports the likelihood that early sages like Jesus spoke and were understood in part as wisdom

teachers.

305 Kelber, Gospel, 199–211; Boring, Sayings, 201–3, provide examples of this approach; con-

trast Gundry, “Genre,” 103–7. Of course, even the related proposal that “Q” is entirely a sayings

source with no narrative is highly questionable; that the narrative passages in Matt 3:1–12/Lk 3:2–14

and Matt 8:5–10/Lk 7:1–10 occur at the same junctures in their respective narratives (the second

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

combined at will in antiquity,306 reports of sages’ teachings frequently incorporated ac-

countsoftheirlivesorsettingsfortheirsayings,

307 and Ahiqar’s wisdom sayings and nar-

rative were probably already combined more than half a millennium before the Gospels

were written.308 Early Christian tradition and use of genre was also not likely isolated in a

single stream; where Paul’s incidental use attests Jesus traditions, these traditions attest

both Q and Markan forms, and some of the Q material is more like Matthew whereas

some is more like Luke.309

While sayings collections, like narratives, could be either early or late, both the gnostic

texts and their more “orthodox” second-century competitors are clearly later, expansive,

and considerably farther removed from the Palestinian Jesus tradition than the canonical

gospels. Most scholars today agree that even the Gospel of Thomas in its present form (for

about one-third of its sayings) is gnostic;310 because it has parallels to every stratum of

gospel tradition and some of its sayings follow others solely because of the sequence in the

canonical gospels, most scholars today acknowledge that Thomas in its current form de-

pends on the Synoptics.311 Othertextscontainevenlessauthenticmaterial.Secret Gospel of

Mark, for instance, is probably a forgery dating from somewhere between the late second

and the twentieth centuries.312 ApartfromafewsayingsinThomas, it is unlikely that any

oftheapocryphalorgnosticgospelsreflectanydegreeofauthenticJesustradition.

313

Noting that the gnostic “gospels” are often sayings collections does, however, elimi-

nate the hope of a complete comparison with our present Fourth Gospel, despite its dis-

tinctive speeches. As noted above, all four gospels fall into the range of biography, but

gnostic “gospels” constitute an entirely different genre.314

Conclusions concerning them should not, therefore, be read back into studies of the

extant first-century gospels, although if any of the four gospels would tend toward this

INTRODUCTION

immediately following Jesus’ sermon on the mount/plain) indicates a sequential (hence also written

and not just oral) tradition at these points (cf., e.g., Theissen, Gospels, 226).

306 Besides the sayings-chreiai and action-chreiai were mixed chreiai, including both sayings

and action (Theon Progymn. 3.22–23); sayings-chreiai also could include both statement and re-

sponse (Progymn. 3.27–28). Sayings could also be reported from separate sources after narrating a

“life,” without implying that the two genres were contradictory (e.g., Plutarch Timoleon 15.1); cf.

Philostratus Vit. soph. 2.5.574); most often biographies included both (Valerius Maximus 1.pref.1).

307 E.g., episodes from Aesop’s life in a collection of his fables (Phaedrus 2.9.1–4); cf. the com-

bination of sayings and deeds in Diogenes Laertius.

308 Cf. Lindenberger, “Ahiqar,” 480–82.

309 Richardson and Gooch, “Logia,” 52.

310 Stanton, Gospel Truth, 87; Wright, People of God, 437–43.

311 E.g., Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:123–39. The consensus is summarized, e.g., in Blomberg,

“Where,” 23–25. In the final analysis, even among scholars who see some early traditions in Thomas,

very few hold that Thomas itself actually predates the Synoptics (Johnson, Real Jesus, 89).

312 Stanton, Gospel Truth, 93; Neusner, “Foreward,” xxvii; cf. Losie, “Gospel.” Brown, Death,

297, dates it earlier, to ca. 125. As late as the 1700s some writers followed the ancient convention of

pretending to translate ancient writings seen by no one else (Lefkowitz, Africa, 111).

313 Stanton, Gospel Truth, 77–95; Sanders, Figure, 64. Most of this material depends on the ca-

nonical gospels; see Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:114–23; on the Gospel of Peter and its hypothetical “Cross

Gospel,” see Brown, Death, 1317–49; Meier, Marginal Jew, 1:117–18. The fiction of “secret” tradi-

tions works much better for originally secretive groups such as the Pythagoreans (cf. Iamblichus V.P.

35.252–253, 258–260) than where something like the public apostolic tradition was already in place.

314 See Burridge, Gospels, 249–50; Wright, People of God, 410–1; also Smith, “Gospels,” 13–14

(noting that gnostic gospels cannot be construed, unlike the Synoptics and John, as seeking to con-

tinue the biblical story).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

later type, it would have to be the late-first-century Fourth Gospel. John follows the narra-

tive format also attested in the Synoptics, though developing cohesive discourses and dia-

logues at much greater length (see our next chapter).315 But although gnostics read and

developed John, John’s speeches are neither gnostic nor mere collections of sayings. Be-

cause the Fourth Gospel deals much less with the stream of tradition we are able to test

from the Synoptics, examinations of John’s relation to history are far less provable than

those of his prior siblings. Other putative sources for the Fourth Gospel remain hypo-

thetical.316 The extent of John’s reliability as a historical source, if ascertainable, will there-

fore have to be determined on other grounds. If one turns to the question of the burden of

proof, we should ask how historically reliable John appears to be where we can check him.

Once the question is framed in such terms, we must return to passages where John’s story

runs parallel to that in the Synoptics.

Source Criticism of the Fourth Gospel

The assumptions of traditional source criticism have proved tenuous in the study of

Greco-Roman literature. Writers could depend on a variety of sources and might not need

written sources for events that had occurred in their lifetimes.317 ThecaseoftheSynoptic

Gospels is different, where the degree of overlap in particular accounts recited indicates a

literary relationship at least between Mark and the other gospels; but the problem is even

more difficult in the Fourth Gospel than among most Greek and Roman historians.

Moody Smith’s Composition and Order of the Fourth Gospel proved a decisive critique

of Bultmann’s source theories,318 and since then these theories have been widely regarded

as unproved, except for his signs source (on which see below).319 Bultmann’s stylistic crite-

ria have failed to persuade scholars, particularly in the discourses.320 Source criticism on

this Gospel is far less popular today, though it has not died out.321 In the 1970s Sydney

Temple argued for a very substantial “core” of the Gospel that was quite early,322 but has

not been widely followed. Some scholars have continued to arrive at brilliant but unverifi-

able constructions of sources. Thomas Brodie, for instance, finds all of Mark, much of

Matthew, parts of Luke-Acts, and Ephesians in this Gospel.323 A. J. Blasi adopts a sociologi-

cal approach to identifying sources,324 but unconvincingly presses too far behind the ex-

tant texts. The leading advocate of source criticism on the Fourth Gospel today probably

remains Robert Fortna.325 Von Wahlde also has offered significant work in this area.326

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

315 For this reason, Dunn, “John,” 322, situates John somewhere between the Synoptics and

gnostic gospels.

316 It is often the case, as Ellis, Genius, 3–4, has suggested, that Johannine source theories have

more evidence against them than in their favor.

317 Whittaker, “Introduction,” lxi–lxii.

318 Smith, Composition.

319 Sloyan, John, 11. Bultmann’s version of the signs source is also open to critique (see

Witherington, Wisdom, 9–10).

320 Ashton, Understanding, 50.

321 For a survey of positions see Sloyan, John, 28–49.

322 Temple , Core; for reconstruction of his “core,” see 255–82.

323 Brodie, Quest, 101–20, 128–34.

324 Blasi, Sociology.

325 E.g., Fortna, Predecessor.

326 Von Wahlde, Ver sion; idem, “Terms.”

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Nevertheless, sources are next to impossible to distinguish in this Gospel, as most con-

temporary commentators recognize.327 As Margaret Davies contends with reference even

to the putative signs source, Bultmann and others made valiant attempts, but all “fail be-

cause of the Gospel’s impressive stylistic unity.”328 Schnackenburg followed Bultmann in

regarding future eschatological material as redactional, but since other parts of early

Christianity held future and realized eschatology together in tension, it makes little sense

to exclude these passages that textually and stylistically belong to the whole.329 An analysis

of plot and rhetorical structures fails to coincide with earlier scholarly divisions of the

Gospel based on source or redactional theories.330 Evenearlierscholarsmostinclinedto

distinguish redactions and locate displacements recognized its stylistic unity.331 C. K.

Barrett accepted John’s use of the Synoptics and acknowledged that he used other sources

now unrecoverable, but otherwise thought that all other source criticism of the Gospel was

pure speculation.332

Some scholars have modified or at least qualified their earlier source-critical views.

Fernando Segovia, who produced a substantial source-critical study on the Farewell Dis-

courses,333 now writes in the forefront of Johannine literary criticism, and recognizes much

more unity and coherence in the text.334 John Ashton concedes that in his earlier, monu-

mental work Understanding the Fourth Gospel he accepted too uncritically the common

older view of various versions of the Gospel. Although he continues to think there were two

editions, he admits that he is no longer sure;335 authors could certainly tinker with their

work, but the image of various editions of books may be “somewhat misleading” before

printing presses from the fourteenth century.336 In our view, if the Gospel had an earlier

form (aside from its early draft stage, which was probably not circulated), it may have been

the oral form in which the beloved disciple and/or the Fourth Evangelist preached it.337

The Fourth Gospel functions as a unity, as various comments in our commentary

will emphasize. Claiming that the Gospel is a unity does not mean that every element

within it readily fits every other element without extrinsic context for both; but such dis-

sonances need not in every case imply distinct sources.338 As literary deconstructionists

have repeatedly shown, such incongruities appear often enough in unified works. This

certainly includes ancient Mediterranean works that through most of their ancient his-

tory were treated as unities regardless of the disparate oral sources on which they might

INTRODUCTION

327 E.g., Beasley-Murray, John, xxxviii–xliii; Carson, John, 41–44; Witherington, Wisdom, 6–7;

for the current consensus, Schnelle, “Blick.” Cf. Kysar, John, 12. This was recognized (and stated elo-

quently) as early as the source critic Streeter in Gospels, 377–82.

328 Davies, Rhetoric, 259–60.

329 Cf. ibid., 264–65.

330 Staley, Kiss, 71.

331 E.g., MacGregor, John, xli.

332 Barrett, John, 17.

333 See Segovia, Relationships.

334 See Segovia, “Tradition History.”

335 Ashton, Studying, 113.

336 Ibid., 112. To be sure, various written editions are not impossible; the verb tenses in Cornelius

Nepos 25 (Atticus), 13–18, may suggest that these chapters are revisions for a second edition.

337 See Feuillet, Studies, 146; Carson, John, 46. Blomberg, Reliability, 45, suggests some “loose

weaving together of orally preached material” (following Lindars, Behind; idem, “Discourse and

Tradition”; cf. Thatcher, “Riddles in Gospel”).

338 A more reliable indicator would be the different texture of an account, such as perhaps the

tragic material about Panthea in Xenophon Cyr. 6.1.31–45; 6.3.11–17; 7.1.29–32; 7.3.3, 13–16.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

depend. Thus Harpalion’s father Pylaemenes mourned for him in Homer Iliad 13.658—

but Pylaemenes, Harpalion’s father, had already died in 5.576.339 The story world of the

Iliad appears inconsistent when Hephaistos took a full day to fall from heaven (Il. 1.592),

but Thetis could leap directly from Olympus into the sea (Il. 1.532), Athene could dart

immediately to earth (Il. 4.78), and Ares could flee swiftly from earth to heaven (Il.

5.885). Some accounts appear inconsistent with the extrinsic world we know: the dog

Argos, admittedly old, recognizes Odysseus, though according to the story line, Odysseus

hasbeenawaytwentyyears,muchlongerthananormaldog’slife(HomerOd. 17.292,

301–302).340

In Ovid’s patchwork of stories, the Bears constellations appear unable to descend into

the ocean in Metam. 2.171–172, yet they became constellations more than fifteen years

later (2.497; cf. 2.401–416, 505–507), when they are prohibited from descending into the

sea (2.508–531). If one reads the Latin in its most common sense, then Alpheus is both fa-

ther of Arethusa (Ovid Metam. 5.487) and a river god who tries to rape her (5.599–641,

likely suggesting inadequate editing of distinct stories). But if such divergences represent

sources (which is quite possible), these sources are forever unrecoverable to us today.341

Such inconsistencies also appear in historical works, such as Livy’s claim that a Numidian’s

nephew is a brother’s son (28.35.8) at one point and a sister’s son (27.19.9) at another; this

maystemfromdifferentsources

342—or from an oversight of Livy’s. Although Plutarch re-

ports a detailed tradition (possibly partly legendary) from his own hometown, many

pieces of the story fail to cohere because much is missing (why did the Romans not hunt

Damon in Cimon 1.5–6 [though they do appear in 2.1–2]?). Pseudo-Callisthenes seems to

accept conflicting versions of Alexander’s paternity (Alex. 1.1–14, 30, 35); Parmenion

also remains general after being removed from that office for conspiracy (Alex. 2.9, 17).

In other cases inconsistencies may stem from writers’ faulty interpretations, as ancient his-

torians recognized (Polybius 3.8.1–11; 3.9.1–5). Orators expected and exploited inconsis-

tencies in their opponents’ accounts (e.g., Rhet. Alex. 5.1427b.12–30; 9.1430a.14–21;

10.1430a.26–27).

Some tensions are contradictions; others remain simply tensions, and both tensions

and contradictions can represent either inadequately harmonized sources or simply an

overarching structure to the narrative inadequate for harmonizing all its details.343 No fi-

nite narrative, even if it reflects many aspects of history, can be complete; it may omit some

detailsthatwouldmakefullersenseofothers.Butthisincompletenessdoesnotmean

(pace radical deconstructionists) that the narrative is inadequate for the basic purpose for

which it is written (whether history, fiction, or some other purpose).

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

339 More loosely, if one allows for hyperbole and figurative language, one may compare the

conflicting claims for Cassandra and Laodice in Homer Il. 3.124; 13.365–366. Likewise, sleep came

on Zeus in Iliad 1.610–611, but 2.2 reports that Zeus could not sleep that night. Cf. perhaps the

Muse (Homer Od. 1.1) and Muses (Od. 24.60).

340 Though not completely unheard of. Some ancients also critiqued inconsistencies in Homer;

see Maclean and Aitken, Heroikos, xli–l.

341 Many inconsistencies in Valerius Flaccus’s version of the Argonautica, however, may stem

from the work’s unfinished state (Mozley, “Introduction,” viii; the end of book 8 is incomplete). By

contrast, Menken, Techniques, 26, 275–77, demands too much precision, as if John counted the

number of words or his literary units were always easily discernible; or to a lesser extent, the exces-

sivedetectionofchiasmusinEllis,Genius; idem, “Inclusion, Chiasm.”

342 So Livy, LCL 8:142 n. 1.

343 Thus the means of guarding Hector’s body vary between Homer Il. 23.184–191, 187 on one

hand and 24.18–21 on the other, but they are not beyond harmonization.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

John, Historical Tradition, and the Synoptics

The thesis of Johannine dependence on the Synoptics has been argued often and thor-

oughly.344 IthasbeenarguedthatJohnusedMatthew;bothJohannineandMattheantra

dition probably originated and developed in Syria-Palestine.345 Scholars more often affirm

that John used Luke,346 though common sources might explain the relationship better,347

and one writer even suggests conversely that Luke’s research (Lk 1:3) may have included

interviewing the beloved disciple.348 MorecommonlyscholarsdenyJohn’sdirectdepend

ence on Luke, appealing instead to minor coincidences and dependence on similar tradi-

tions.349 Most often scholars who think John used another Gospel suggest that he used

Mark.350 Some also argue that John believed his tradition superior to that of the Synoptics

and critiqued them accordingly.351

But many parallels indicate only John’s use of pre-Synoptic tradition (which could

also have been drawn upon at times by Matthew or Luke independently of Mark or Q).352

At other points he could depend on Matthean or Lukan redaction that was incorporated

into subsequent preaching tradition,353 or could have gleaned such tradition from a cur-

sory reading of the Gospels in question without a greater degree of dependence.354 But ar-

guments for even marginal dependence rather than common tradition must be made with

caution; a high degree of the minor parallels can be accounted for by coincidence and the

INTRODUCTION

344 E.g., Neirynck, “Synoptics”; idem, “Moody Smith”; idem, “Recent Commentaries”; Dowell,

“Conflict.” Koester, Introduction, 2:178, allows the possibility in the final stage of the Fourth Gos-

pel’s redaction. Cf. Beale, “Daniel,” esp. 144, on evidence for Synoptic as well as pre-Synoptic tradi-

tion behind Revelation, the author of which he takes to be John.

345 A. M. Farrer in Muddiman, “John’s Use”; cf. Gundry, Matthew, 2. Although the case for Mat-

thew is not certain, it is often affirmed: e.g., Goppelt, “Church in History,” 198; Zumstein,

“Antioche”; Gundry, Matthew, 609; Ellis, Matthew, 6; Hengel, Acts, 98; some opt for Palestine, e.g.,

Viviano, “Matthew.” For the suggestion of Matthew’s Sitz im Leben as conflict with Yavneh or neo-

Pharisaic authorities, resembling the scenario often proposed for John, cf. Davies, Setting, and

Tilborg, Leaders.

346 See the thorough treatment of scholars’ perspectives on the relationship between John and

Luke in Smith, John Among Gospels, 85–110. For agreements with Acts, see Cribbs, “Agreements.”

347 E.g., Sanders, John, 12.

348 Eller, Disciple, 47. For the thesis that Luke may have used John in his Passion Narrative, see

Matson, Dialogue.

349 See Myllykoski, “Luke and John,” esp. 152; for the thesis of a common document on which

they depend, see Boismard and Lamouille, Actes, 1:15.

350 E.g., Streeter, Gospels, 393–426 (plus Luke’s Passion Narrative). MacGregor, John, x, thinks

this “can hardly be questioned,” though he does not presume that John had Mark directly in front

of him.

351 Vogler, “Johannes als Kritiker.” Some writers did critique predecessors (see, e.g., Diodorus

Siculus 1.3.1–2; Wardle, Valer ius Maximus, 67); others, however, sought merely to supplement them

(cf. Xenophon Apol. 1; Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 1.1.1).

352 Stein, “Agreements.” Cf. Smith, Johannine Christianity, 12: though Bent Noack has over-

stated the case, the parallels may indicate oral traditions that the Johannine and Synoptic communi-

ties held in common.

353 Cf. Borgen, “Passion Narrative,” 259. But much of their redaction could also depend on

prior common tradition.

354 Barrett, “Synoptic Gospels,” allows that John had something akin to Mark, but that he only

alluded to the material rather than depending on it as Matthew and Luke did. But John’s use of

Mark may have been even less significant than this, given other available sources (cf. Luke 1:1) and

above all his own independent tradition.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

simple limitations of vocabulary imposed by the common language in which they

wrote.355 Variations among the Gospels on the story of the anointing could have arisen

during oral transmission; the writers could have independently drawn elements from dif-

ferent forms of the story356 or two stories, conflating these elements in the process.

Not only John’s Passion Narrative357 or the aretalogical signs source often held to

standbehindhismiraclestories,

358 but his entire Gospel has been viewed as independent

from the Synoptics.359 This became, in fact, the prevailing view in recent years, although

new developments have evaporated what seemed to be a “consensus.”360 Although some

argue that John used the Synoptics,361 probably a greater number of scholars still hold that

he simply used independent traditions that have contacts with the Synoptics.362

Suggesting that the Fourth Gospel is not directly dependent on the Synoptics need not

imply that John did not know of the existence of the Synoptics; even if (as is unlikely)

Johannine Christianity were as isolated from other circles of Christianity as some have pro-

posed, other gospels must have been known if travelers afforded any contact at all among

Christian communities.363 That travelers did so may be regarded as virtually certain.364

Urban Christians traveled (1 Cor 16:10, 12, 17; Phil 2:30; 4:18), carried letters (Rom 16:1–2;

Phil 2:25),365 relocated to other places (Rom 16:3, 5; perhaps 16:6–15), and sent greetings to

other churches (Rom 16:21–23; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:22; Col 4:10–15). In the first century

many churches knew what was happening with churches in other cities (Rom 1:8; 1 Cor

11:16; 14:33; 1 Thess 1:7–9), and even shared letters (Col 4:16). Missionaries could speak of

some churches to others (Rom 15:26; 2 Cor 8:1–5; 9:2–4; Phil 4:16; 1 Thess 2:14–16; cf. 3

John 5–12) and send personal news by other workers (Eph 6:21–22; Col 4:7–9). Although

we need not suppose connections among churches as pervasive as Ignatius’s letters suggest

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

355 Cf., e.g., Morris, Studies, 16–17, critiquing the strength of Barrett’s parallels.

356 Dodd, Tradition, 150, 172.

357 Ibid., 45, 150.

358 Arguments for this source may be found in Robinson, “Trajectory,” 235–38; Appold, Motif,

87; Fortna, “Christology,” 504. Cf. Smith, “Book of Signs,” 441–57, who notes (441) that one need

not accept this source as distinct from the Gospel. We are inclined to agree with the judgment of

Carson, “Source Criticism,” 428, that none of the proposed source theories for the Fourth Gospel

has been adequately demonstrated.

359 E.g., Brown, John, 1:xliv–xlvii; Schnackenburg, John, 1:42; Dodd, “‘Herrenworte,’” 86; Rob-

inson, Twelve Studies , 96; Smalley, John, 38; Hunter, John, 5; Ladd, Theology, 219–20; Morris, Studies,

15–63. Gardner-Smith, Gospels, was an early and able proponent of this thesis, which carried much

of Johannine scholarship.

360 See Smith, John Among Gospels, 139–176. This book represents the most thorough treat-

ment of different views on the question to date.

361 Davies, Rhetoric, 255–59, thinks it probable.

362 E.g., Marsh, John, 44–46; Yee, Feasts, 11–12; Smith, John (1999), 14; see esp. idem, Among

Gospels, 195–241.

363 Early Christians assumed that John knew the Synoptics and regularly compared them

(Wiles, Gospel, 13–21); but apologetic considerations more than tradition may have shaped their

communal memory.

364 Travelers did bring news regularly (Euripides El. 361–62; Demosthenes Ep. 5.1; Cicero Att.

2.11; Seneca Ep. Lucil. 47.1; P.Oxy. 32; Apuleius Metam. 1.26; Apoll. K. Tyre 8), and churches were

certainly networked (1 Cor 1:11; Phil 2:19, 23; Col 1:7–8; 4:7; see Bauckham, “Gospels,” 33–44;

Thompson, “Internet”).

365 People often sent mail when they heard of someone traveling in the right direction (e.g.,

Cicero Att. 1.10, 13; 4.1; 8.14); one letter from as far as Britain reached Cicero in less than a month

(Cicero Quint. fratr. 3.1.8.25). In the present day, despite the availability of a postal service, travelers

to and from many parts of Nigeria, Kenya, and Cameroon still carry mail for acquaintances.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

perhaps two decades later, neither need we imagine that such connections emerged ex nihilo

in the altogether brief silence between John’s Gospel and the “postapostolic” period. No one

familiar with the urban society of the eastern empire will be impressed with the isolation

Gospel scholars often attribute to the Gospel “communities.”

John could have known one, two, or more other published gospels and yet have chosen

not to follow their model or employ them as sources in writing his own.366 (Xenophon, for

example, knows of an earlier work recounting the retreat of Greek mercenaries from Persia,

mentioned in Hell. 3.1.2, but later composes his own eyewitness account.) If, as is likely,

Mark circulated widely (and hence could provide a primary framework for both Matthew

and Luke), John might even safely assume his readers’ knowledge of it.367 Certainly a few de-

cades earlier the tradition was widely known; given its circulation in Jerusalem and Antioch,

“it is historically quite unlikely that Paul would have no knowledge of the Jesus-tradition”

that circulated in Jerusalem, Antioch, and Damascus, locations he had frequented.368 By

John’s day, such tradition would be even more pervasive. In other words, independence need

not mean anything so dramatic as that Mark and John “developed the gospel form inde-

pendently.”369 John’s very divergence from the Synoptics probably led to its relatively slower

reception in the broader church until it could be explained in relation to them.370

Whether John draws directly on the Synoptics or (more likely) on independent tradi-

tion confirmed occasionally in the Synoptics, we see that the Synoptics sometimes confirm

the pre-Johannine character of the events in some stylistically Johannine narratives. In addi-

tion to such occasional confirmations, some scholars note points of “‘interlocking’ . . . where

either the Johannine or the Synoptic tradition contains puzzling material that is explained

only by information from the other tradition.”371 Nor in the case of differences need we al-

ways prefer the Synoptics’ “majority opinion,” which may at times reflect a single stream of

early tradition that coexisted with others whose emphasis differed (such as Mark and Q). D.

Moody Smith has argued that at many points of divergence from the Synoptics (for example,

somedetailsofthearrestandtrial)Johnactuallyprovidesaccountsthatcoherebetterwith

known historical conditions and are not generated by John’s theology.372 In working

through the Gospel, my own conclusion is that John tells these stories freely without direct

dependence on the Synoptics, whether we think that his source or sources are pre- or post-

Synoptic. Yet while John goes his own way, he reflects earlier traditions in these cases. Be-

causethesenarrativesarenodifferentinstylefromhisothernarratives,thereisnoreasonto

assume that John does not reflect earlier traditions elsewhere.

John and Historical Tradition

A close examination of the Fourth Gospel reveals that John has rearranged many de-

tails, apparently in the service of his symbolic message. This is especially clear in the Pas-

INTRODUCTION

366 See esp. Smith, “John and Synoptics,” 425–44; also Sanders, John, 10; Conzelmann, Theology,

324; Goppelt, Jesus, Paul, and Judaism, 40–41; Beasley-Murray, John, xxxv–xxxvii; Borchert, John,

37–41; Witherington, Wisdom, 5–9; Brown, Essays, 194–96; Dvorak, “Relationship”; Blomberg, Reli-

ability, 48–49; Köstenberger, John, 37.

367 See Bauckham, “John,” 148.

368 Stuhlmacher, “Theme,” 16.

369 Against Aune, Environment, 20.

370 Smith, “Prolegomena,” 179–80.

371 Blomberg, Reliability, 285; cf. 53–54; Morris, Studies, 40–63.

372 Smith, “Problem,” 267. One cannot a priori use Mark’s framework, which he may have im-

posed on tradition, to evaluate John’s reliability (Moloney, “Jesus of History”).

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

sion Narrative, where direct conflicts with the presumably widely known passion tradition

(most notably that Jesus gives the sop to Judas, is crucified on Passover, and carries his own

cross) fulfill symbolic narrative functions. John’s long discourses are of a different genre

than the sayings collections in Q or even Mark’s long “apocalyptic” discourse. Such fea-

tures naturally invite us to question the nature of (or, by modern historiographic criteria,

the degree of) this Gospel’s historicity; certainly he is not writing a work of the exact

historiographic nature of Luke-Acts.

Nevertheless, scholars who dismiss too quickly the possibility of substantial historical

tradition in John ignore abundant details that would have made fullest sense only in a Pal-

estinian Jewish setting, as well as numerous incidental parallels in the Synoptics. Some

questions can be answered only by examining passages one at a time (particularly those

which appear to overlap or conflict with Synoptic claims).373 For the most part, such a

comparison (see commentary) suggests that John adapts fairly freely at points (more than

one would expect from a Luke, for example) but within the setting of traditional events or

sayings. It is, however, appropriate to frame the discussion with some general issues here (a

few of which summarize arguments above).

The Fourth Gospel, no less than the Synoptics, fits the general format of ancient biog-

raphy, as we have already suggested.374 Its purpose reported in 20:31 was a legitimate pur-

pose in ancient biographies, especially in philosophical bioi.375 The explicit centrality of

Jesus’ “works” in the Fourth Gospel (John 5:36; 7:3, 21; 9:4; 10:25, 32, 37–38; 14:10–11;

15:24; 17:4) fits the biographical genre followed by the Synoptics and most other bio-

graphical works.376 In its genre, John is certainly closer to the Synoptics than to “sayings

sources” like Thomas,377 and it is those most familiar with the four canonical gospels,

rather than those approaching these gospels in the context of Greco-Roman literature as a

whole, who are inclined to emphasize the differences most strongly.378

It is difficult to deny that much historical tradition about Jesus existed in the first

century that was never recorded in the Synoptics. No one in Mediterranean antiquity

would assume that a one-volume account sampling an oral cycle would be comprehen-

sive; the countless allusions to other stories in Homer (e.g., to the voyage of the Argo-

nauts in Od. 12.69–72) lent themselves to later development, but clearly refer to fuller

stories Homer’s works did not record. In the case of the Gospels, the writers themselves

assume knowledge of traditions about Jesus not recorded in their Gospels (e.g., Acts

20:35; John 20:30).

It is furthermore inherently likely that early Christian leaders knew one another better

andexchangedmoreinformationthanscholarshaveoftentakenintoaccount(asnoted

above).379 Some scholars have also found indications that some of John’s material, such as

Johannine parables, seems to have skipped the processes of tradition which stand behind

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

373 Examples of the former are 1:32–33; 6:10–13; 19:38; examples of the latter, 13:26; 18:28;

19:17; see comments on each.

374 See Burridge, Gospels, 220–39.

375 See ibid., 236–37.

376 Ibid., 208.

377 Wright, People of God, 410–11. John is distinctive but more like the Synoptics than like other

documents (see Smith, John [1999], 21–22; Schnelle, Christology, 229).

378 Burridge, Gospels, 220. The second-century Christians who titled the Gospel (kata\ vIwa/nnhn)

classified it with the Synoptics (Burridge, Gospels, 222; cf. Stanton, Gospel Truth, 16–18, 98).

379 See Tenney, “Parallels,” although his parallels between 1 Peter and John by themselves can-

not carry the case.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

the Synoptics.380 More clearly, R. A. Culpepper has demonstrated that “the reader has

prior knowledge of many of the key elements of the gospel story,”including some elements

omitted in the Synoptics (11:2).381 John further assumes that most of the geography of the

gospel story, like Nazareth and Capernaum, is known to his implied reader, though Judean

sites and the topography of Jerusalem are not.382

In contrast to scholars like Dibelius, who view the Fourth Gospel as a climax of an

early Christian development blending tradition and mythology,383 some prominent schol-

ars have argued for substantial historical tradition in the Fourth Gospel.384 Albright, for

instance,assertsthatbothJohn’snarrativesandsayingsmaterialmustdependonpre-70

Palestinian tradition, since they presuppose information and language that were lost after

that point. John may have adapted his presentation of this material to the needs of his au-

dience, “But there is absolutely nothing to show that any of Jesus’ teachings have been dis-

torted or falsified, or that any vital new element has been added to them.”385 Many of

John’s geographical details have no immediate theological significance to Diaspora readers

(e.g., Cana, Tiberias), and would therefore seem to stem from his Palestinian tradition. An

Australian scholar offers an analogy on a more popular level; while summarizing points

where John reflects accurate knowledge of geographical details,386 Barnett focuses on John

10:23, noting that John had no theological reason to indicate that Jesus sought shelter

from winter weather in Solomon’s portico. Yet “if someone wrote of a person seeking shel-

ter from the sun on Christmas day in the Bennelong restaurant in the Sydney Opera

House, it would be reasonable to conclude that he had first-hand knowledge of the Austra-

lian climate and of a Sydney landmark in the period after the year 1973 when the Opera

House was completed.”387 This at least suggests that John or his source of tradition was

rooted in pre-70 Jewish Palestine, where reliable traditions of Jesus would have flourished;

given the incidental character of the remark, it more likely represents a historical

reminiscence than a theological or literary embellishment.

Perhaps even more to the point, the Gospel is full of allusions to Jewish traditions

thatmayhavemadelittlesensetomuchofhispost-70audiencebutthatoncewould

have illumined accounts that he relates.388 Tabernacles traditions concerning the use of

Siloam (9:7) and rivers of water from the temple (7:37–38) are a case in point (see com-

ments in the commentary).389 The frequent elements of Palestinian Jewish tradition in

the Gospel (noted regularly throughout the commentary) support the view that what we

INTRODUCTION

380 Cf. Sturch, “Parables.”

381 Culpepper, Anatomy, 222–23. Davies, Rhetoric, 255–59, thinks John’s audience may have

known the Synoptic accounts, but some material John presupposes is absent from the Synoptics.

382 Culpepper, Anatomy, 216–18. This would not, however, be significant for our present pur-

poses if we posited an original Galilean audience for the Gospel (see on provenance, below).

383 Dibelius, Tradition, 286. Cf. similarly Carroll, “Exclusion,” 31.

384 E.g., Westcott, John, liii–lxiii; for the last discourses, cf. ibid., lxiii–lxvi; Morris, Studies, ch. 2,

“History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel,” 65–138; Lea, “Reliability”; Blomberg, “Reliable”;

Wenham, “Enigma”; idem, “View”; Moloney, “Jesus of History.”

385 Albright, “Discoveries,” 170–71. Scholars today generally recognize early and Palestinian

traditions in John (Brown, Essays, 188–90).

386 Barnett, Reliable, 63–65.

387 Ibid., 63.

388 This approach is central to the argument in Blomberg, Reliability, esp. 285, 291.

389 Our sources suggesting that pre-70 tradition explains these “rivers” are themselves post-70,

but the tradition would probably not be known to most members of John’s audience unless they

had visited Jerusalem before 70.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

see as Johannine tradition must have existed alongside what we see as Synoptic tradition

in pre-70 Palestine.

C.H.Dodd’sgeneralcaseforhistoricaltraditionintheFourthGospelismoreoften

cited than these arguments based on geographical details.390 Dodd finds traditional ma-

terial in the connective passages which provide a chronological framework for the Fourth

Gospel.391 The chronology of the Fourth Gospel is distinctive, and it may fit some of our

other data. Contrary to what one might expect from the Gospel’s theology, Jesus’ ministry

overlaps with the Baptist’s (3:23), which probably began in 26 or 27 C.E. (Luke 3:1). This

also fits the date suggested by John 2:20 (forty-six years). Presumably, John’s readers would

not have counted those years even if they could have, but this chronological marker points

to about 27 for the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, whereas Jesus was probably cruci-

fied about 30—roughly three years later (see commentary ad loc. on these points). If Jesus

was “about thirty” when he began public ministry (Luke 3:23), this may also suggest a

public ministry that began in the late twenties rather than shortly before his crucifixion, as

one might surmise only from the Synoptics.392 Indeed, by the time of Irenaeus, the non-

Johannine view of a year’s public ministry for Jesus had become no longer acceptable—

Irenaeus assumes that his readers know better than the gnostics in this regard.393 These

arguments are not foolproof. Irenaeus could depend on John here as easily as on a parallel

but independent tradition,394 and one could argue that John’s structure around three

Passovers is theologically motivated, to bring the shadow of the cross (and the temple

cleansing) to the beginning of his ministry (2:13–14) and perhaps even to create a theo-

logical paschal context for the multiplication of the loaves.395 Thus in the final analysis this

argument of Dodd’s may not prove adequately compelling.

Although Dodd’s monumental work demonstrates the possibility of historical tradi-

tions in the Fourth Gospel, D. A. Carson is correct that much of the historical information

cannot be verified either way.396 As Aune notes, “the claim for historicity is generally lim-

ited to narrative sequence and topography; the task of finding genuine Jesuanic traditions

in the discourse material is an arduous one, and one for which the appropriate method-

ological tools are currently non-existent.”397

Atthesametime,theusualskepticismtowardthecontentsoftheFourthGospel,which

has sometimes proved almost thoroughgoing, seems to be more influenced by scholars’ pre-

suppositions than by any demand of historical-critical methodology itself.398 Granted, John

adapts the gospel form (see comment below), apparently employing a considerably more

creativestylethanMarkorLuke(thoughitstillfallswithintheacceptablerangeofancient

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

390 Despite corrections on some points, Dunn, “John,” 299, thinks that “its main findings” will

endure.

391 Dodd, Tradition, 233–47, esp. 243.

392 On Jesus’ birth before 4 B.C.E., see, e.g., Keener, Matthew, 102; discipleship could continue

for many years (e.g., Eunapius Lives 461). Streeter, Gospels, 419–24, suggests that John’s chronology,

while perhaps imperfect, is all we have, since Mark does not offer one.

393 Irenaeus Haer. 1.3.3.

394 He argues against the gnostics that Christ was over fifty when he died, though baptized

around the age of thirty (2, ch. 22); although this exceeds John’s chronology considerably, it is prob-

ably rooted in the Fourth Gospel (8:56–57, with Lk 3:23).

395 That John arranges his Gospel by seasons as Thucydides did (e.g., 5.26.1) could suggest delib-

erate chronologization; but for the dischronologization of the temple cleansing, see comments ad loc.

396 Carson, “Tradition.”

397 Aune, Eschatology, 67, n. 2.

398 See Carson, “Tradition.”

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

biography). But John’s adaptation of the Jesus tradition for his community hardly means

wholesale fabrication in which Jesus merely symbolizes the community; thus, for example,

JesusisneverexpelledfromthesynagogueinthisGospel.

399

Points where John overlaps with the Synoptics yet remains independent of them (e.g.,

6:1–21; possibly 4:46–54) demonstrate that John freely cast all his material in Johannine

idiom,400 yet included material that is no farther removed from the source of tradition than

the material in the Synoptics is.401 Jesus’ sayings in the Fourth Gospel likewise match much

of the sayings material in the Synoptics (e.g., 12:25, 48; 13:16).402 Theyieldwouldbemuch

higher if we included not only specific parallels but also the kinds of materials revealing co-

herency with such content (as is sometimes pursued in Synoptic studies).403 After an exten-

sive study of common material, Leon Morris concludes that John, though without direct

literary dependence on the Synoptics, knows the traditions they used: “My conclusion is that

John is independent of the Synoptics, but that he is in essential agreement with them.”404

My own conclusions are similar to Morris’s (with the special exception of the Passion

Narratives). Although my predisposition is more favorable toward the material than that

of many scholars to begin with, most of my early work in John involved John’s theology

and literary unity, whereas historical tradition in the Gospel seemed to me an untestable

matter that was largely irrelevant to the Gospel’s meaning in any case. Despite the interest

of my doctoral mentor, D. Moody Smith, in the question of John and the Synoptics, I had

not pursued that question in any detail until examining some parallel pericopes in the

early stages of preparing this commentary, an examination undertaken merely in an effort

to be somewhat thorough. What surprised me was that, where John could be tested against

the Synoptics, he recounted earlier traditions in the same basic idiom in which he covered

ground otherwise unfamiliar to us. While current historical methods cannot locate John

precisely on the continuum of historical reliability, they can demonstrate that, where we

can test him, John is both historian and theologian. The focal point of our study must be

his theology, but he presupposes the Jewish salvation-historical perspective in which God

revealshischaracter(hencetruetheology)byhisactsinhistory.

Indeed, John’s Palestinian cast and his topographical accuracy—verifiable after 70

only by excavations in the twentieth century—lend a greater degree of credibility to John’s

witness in certain regards.405 He updates some language (such as “Pharisees”; see com-

ment on 1:19, 24) but also preserves early traditions (see comment on 7:37–39). Like other

ancient writers, John could select and shape events without fabricating them;406 as in the

INTRODUCTION

399 Setzer, Responses, 84, noting that John’s use of Jesus is emblematic but not allegorical, and

his sources not necessarily less historical than the Synoptics.

400 This would even be the case if one accepted the putative “signs source”; Fortna, “Locale,”

60, suggests that John adapted the topography of the source, making geography more theologi-

cally prominent.

401 See Higgins, Historicity, 39. Barrett, John, 53–54, and Westcott, John, lxxxiii, do not regard

the differences as irreconcilable, viewing them as in some way superficial.

402 Cf. the extensive list of parallels in Howard, Gospel, 267–78.

403 Cf., e.g., Ensor, “John 4.35.” Although I have occasionally pointed these out in the commen-

tary, I usually have not, since historical setting, rather than historicity of genre, is this commentary’s

primary focus.

404 Morris, Studies, 62–63.

405 Hunter, “Trends.” Streeter, Gospels, 393–426, thinks that John knew Mark’s and Luke’s Pas-

sion Narratives but had firsthand knowledge of Jerusalem.

406 See Robinson, Historical Character, 15–16; cf. Strachan, Gospel, 85; Hunter, “Trends

(Continued).”

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

Jewish exodus tradition upon which he depends, the theological value of the “signs” he re-

ports depend on their historical validity, and his “witness” is valueless if taken any other

way (19:35, 20:26–31).

Raymond Brown summarizes a challenge to the old consensus:

It is well known that the categorical rejection of the historicity of John, so familiar in earlier

critical exegesis, can no longer be maintained. We may still find writers stating that the Fourth

Gospel cannot be seriously considered as a witness to the historical Jesus, but these represent a

type of uncritical traditionalism which arises with age, even in heterodoxy.407

Charlesworth suggests that today nearly all John scholars “have concluded that John may

contain some of the oldest traditions in . . . the Gospels.”408

John’s Distinctive Style and Adaptation of the Gospel Form

Given that John is closer to the Synoptics than to other writings, and that both fall

within the spectrum of the ancient biographical genre, one must still seek to account for

the differences.409 John’s narrative progressively nuances the character of the genre, adapt-

ingexpectationswithwhichreadersmoreaccustomedtosuchgospelsastheSynoptics

would have approached his work. That John’s biography of Jesus differs from those of the

Synoptic writers is evident; what accounts for these differences?410

Certainly John’s style, first of all, is distinctive.411 The distinctiveness is most evident

in the discourses (John’s most distinctive literary feature vis-à-vis the Synoptics, discussed

in our following chapter) but hardly limited to them. Because this commentary’s focus is

the Fourth Gospel’s Mediterranean context, we may focus our remarks about John’s style

here on the elements that lend themselves most readily to comparison with other ancient

style (though, for further discussion, see ch. 2 of the introduction on discourses, and

comments on individual passages).

A standard Greek grammar rightly observes that in the technical sense John’s

discourses lack “rhetorical art.”412 John’s style is uniform whether in narrative or dis-

course,413 whereas rhetorically trained writers preferred to adapt speeches even to their

specific audiences. Lack of indication of technical rhetorical training does not, however,

imply a lack of some rhetorical strategies familiar from the milieu.414 At various points

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

407 Brown, Essays, 187–88.

408 Charlesworth, “Scrolls and Gospel,” 66. Robinson, Priority, argued that John’s portrait of

Jesus was earlier than the Synoptics (though not certain that John wrote earlier).

409 Dunn contends for theological as well as historical differences, underlining the diversity of

early Christianity (Dunn, “Question”).

410 Ancient writers understood that different historians would report different points accord-

ing to their emphases (Dionysius of Halicarnassus R.A. 5.56.1), but they did not believe that true

histories or other works should contradict one another (Josephus Ag. Ap. 1.15, 37–38).

411 Ancient critics also took style into account—e.g., noting how a writer employed terms else-

where (e.g., Philostratus Hrk. 11.5, on Homer Od. 18.359, using Il. 21.197).

412 Blass, Debrunner, and Funk, Grammar, §492; cf. also Stamps, “Johannine Writings,” 618–19.

This could be acceptable in some sense if appropriate for the audience (cf. Rhet. Alex. 22.1434b.27–30);

the Gospels, like most novels and other popular works, did not primarily address elite audiences (cf.

Dowden, “Callisthenes,” 651).

413 Burridge, “Gospels and Acts,” 527.

414 The Gospel is more advanced than Mark (Burridge, “Gospels and Acts,” 530), though for a

professional orator this would not have been a significant claim.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

in the commentary, we observe parallels from ancient rhetorical conventions, not be-

cause John or his aides would have consciously drawn on rhetorical training but because

they are the closest available sources we have for studying speeches disseminated in an

ancient Mediterranean context. Many of these parallels apply to the rhythmic patterns in

Jesus’ speech; such features may, however, simply represent standard techniques of oral

patterning for an oral culture, an area that invites much more detailed exploration.415

Rhetoricians normally emphasized the importance of clarity.416 John’s language is

often obscure, which, though generally a rhetorical fault (and probably viewed by some as

such if they encountered this Gospel), could be praised when it was deliberate.417 It could

lend an exotic character to speech, sometimes in cultic or theological settings.418 Some

thus connect John’s enigmatic style with his high Christology, comparing the grand style

of rhetoric.419 The grand (me/gejoq) style was used where the subject matter was great

(Menander Rhetor 2.1–2, 368.9), as in hymns to the gods (Menander Rhetor 1.1,

335.21–22).420 As Maximus of Tyre complains, the subject of the divine merits more

splendid diction than mortals can provide (Or. 11.1).421 Various ancient writers found the

eloquence of sublimity appropriate for lofty thoughts.422 Some critics thus conclude that

John developed various features of obscurity “to write in a way appropriate to the mysteri-

ous and profound nature of his subject.”423

One obvious feature of Johannine style is repetition on a number of levels.424 Al-

though rhetoric did not recommend “a limited repetitive vocabulary,” in John’s case it does

offer “rhetorical emphasis and amplification to the central themes”425 (see our chapter

surveying some of the key terms in Johannine theology). Narrative repetition, characteris-

tic of oral narratives,426 is also a paramount feature of this Gospel (see e.g., the standard

comparison of the healings in chs. 5 and 9). Repetition to drive home a central point

certainly was emphasized in ancient, no less than modern, persuasion.427 Interestingly,

INTRODUCTION

415 See Harvey, Listening to Text.

416 See, e.g., Rhet. Alex. 25.1435a.32–1435b.24 (esp. 1435b.7–16, 19–22); Photius Bibliotheca

166.109a (on Antonius Diogenes Thule); see further Rowe, “Style,” 123–24; Black, “Oration at

Olivet,” 84 (citing Quintilian 8.2.22).

417 See Anderson, Rhetorical Theory, 17; Black, “Oration at Olivet,” 88 (citing Quintilian

9.2.65–95); cf. 2 Pet 3:15–16. Stamps, “Johannine Writings,” 620, cites as Johannine examples the

abrupt shifts between 5:47 and 6:1 and between 14:31 and 15:1.

418 Thielman, “Style of Fourth Gospel,” 175–77 (citing, e.g., Hermogenes, Issues 240.24–241.9;

Diogenes Laertius 4.13–14; 9.6, 16; Demetrius 2.101).

419 Black, “Words,” 221–23; Hamid-Khani, Revelation and Concealment.

420 Menander Rhetor roots this in Homer’s grand style (2.1–2, 369.8–9).

421 Maximus himself preferred clarity and simplicity (albeit in Atticist terms) except when pur-

suing such grandeur (Trapp, Maximus, xxxiv n. 64, cites as examples of the latter Or. 2.10; 10.9;

11.12; 21.7–8; 41.2).

422 Thielman, “Style of Fourth Gospel,” 173–75, cites Philo Worse 79; Heir 4; Longinus Subl. 9.3.

Stamps, “Johannine Writings,” 620, notes asyndeton as a feature of Johannine sublimity (see com-

ment below).

423 E.g., Thielman, “Style of Fourth Gospel,” 182 (cf. John’s use of solemnity, 177–78; emphasis

and obscurity, 178–80).

424 Thielman, “Style of Fourth Gospel,” 172, cites John’s redundant use of pronouns, sayings

(e.g., 1:15, 30; 4:29, 39; 13:16; 15:20), and on a broader compositional level.

425 Burridge, “Gospels and Acts,” 527. John frequently repeats favorite theological terms even

though he often varies them with favorite synonyms (see comments on theological language in ch. 7

of the introduction). For the normal preference for stylistic variety, see, e.g., Rowe, “Style,” 155.

426 See Dewey, “Oral-Aural Event,” 148–49 (following Ong, Orality, 37–49).

427 See, e.g., Menander Rhetor 2.3, 384.25–27.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

emphatic repetition could figure into the grand style,428 and some have suggested a con-

nection with writing about religious themes.429

One should note, however, that the grand style contained amplification and orna-

ment,430 in contrast to John’s typically simple style. Simplicity often was arhetoricalvir

tue, at least in many circles.431 Certainly, traditional rhetorical theory generally preferred

plain, as opposed to flowery, style for narratives.432

Although his theological complexity is undoubtedly deliberate, however, some ob-

scurefeaturesofhisgrammarprovemoresurprising.Heoftenincludesde/ where we

would expect kai/ and vice-versa, supplies neither where we would expect a conjunction

(see comment on 1:17);433 and includes ou]n in unexpected locations. This pattern, along

with often oscillating verb tenses, may reflect a loose storytelling style due to repeated re-

telling of the Johannine tradition. Otherwise it could resemble a deliberately abrasive

kakofwni/a, unexpected syntax meant to hold attention in the forceful style of some

rhetoric.434

John’s distinctiveness is most evident to the majority of readers, however, at the theo-

logical level. Commentators regularly cite the verdict of Clement of Alexandria, preserved

in Eusebius, that John differs from the Synoptics as a more “spiritual” gospel, that is, a

more theologically interpretive one.435 While this verdict is probably correct, we should

note that not all early Christian writers would have concurred to the same degree. Origen

regarded John’s portrait of Jesus as sometimes only symbolic (although he also allegorized

theSynopticstoalesserdegree);butotherearlyChristiancommentatorsdidnotagree.

436

Origen noted disagreements between John and the Synoptics but often resolved them by

arguing that John made spiritual points by these divergences;437 Theodore of Mopsuestia

sometimes harmonized but sometimes treated the divergences as a sign that John was an

eyewitness more accurate than the Synoptics;438 Cyril focused on John’s theology, claiming

that John addressed the deeper spiritual significance of events, but also harmonized at

times.439 Eusebius, Epiphanius, and Augustine worked especially hard to harmonize John

and the Synoptics;440 the emphasis on harmonization is hardly surprising given the

apologetic needs of early Christians.

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

428 See Anderson, Rhetorical Theory, 228 (citing esp. Demetrius 103, 211); for examples of some

forms of rhetorical repetition in John, see esp. comment on 6:38–39.

429 Thielman, “Style of Fourth Gospel,” 172.

430 See Menander Rhetor 2.6, 399.21–22; 400.7–9 (reflecting the ethos of the Second Sophistic).

431 Cf. Dionysius of Halicarnassus Lysias 2, 4; Menander Rhetor 2.4, 393.21–22; 2.7, 411.23–29;

but cf. also 2.7, 411.29–31. On this preference in Koine, cf. Black, “Oration at Olivet,” 84.

432 Rowe, “Style,” 155–56.

433 Asyndeton also characterizes John’s style (Stamps, “Johannine Writings,” 620, lists 1:40, 42,

45; 2:17; 4:6, 7; 5:12, 15; 7:32; 8:27; 9:13; 10:21, 22; 11:35, 44; 20:18); on this style, see Rhet. ad

Herenn. 4.30.41; Quintilian 9.3.50; Rowe, “Style,” 136 (including Augustine Serm. 191.19.5); Lee,

“Translations of OT,” 779–80 (LXX Job 3:17; 5:10; Isa 1:23); Anderson, Glossary, 33–34; also in Rhet.

Alex. 36.1442a.11–14.

434 In a more technical sense, kakofani/a is “ill-sounding word order” (Anderson, Rhetorical

Theory, 187).

435 E.g., Kreitzer, John, 5. Other Platonists, however, might find “myth” the best vehicle for alle-

gorical truth (see Maximus of Tyre Or. 4.5–6).

436 Wiles, Gospel, 22–24.

437 Ibid., 15, though Origen sometimes harmonized as well (16).

438 Ibid., 16–18.

439 Ibid., 19.

440 Ibid., 14.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

With his philosophic penchant for allegory, Origen clearly overstated the case, but in

some sense John did engage in more theological exposition than the other gospels;441 his

great number of asides testify to considerable explanation, though much of it is historical.

Certainly John’s Christology invites more than historical treatment: a Gospel that speaks

of “eating” and “drinking”Jesus the way other works described consuming divine Wisdom

may invite mystical contemplation of the divine such as appeared in both Platonist and

merkabah mysticism.442 Citing examples such as the anointing story (12:1–8), which

shows that John followed his sources but employed them creatively,443 Lindars compares

this Gospel with a historical play of Shakespeare that conveys real issues and character yet

exhibits freedom in details.444 Conservative scholar Bruce puts it similarly, comparing

Shakespeare’s interpretive paraphrase of Mark Antony’s eulogy with a source like Caesar in

Plutarch’s Life of Brutus:

What Shakespeare does by dramatic insight (and, it may be added, what many a preacher does

by homiletical skill), all this and much more the Spirit of God accomplished in our Evangelist.

It does not take divine inspiration to produce a verbatim transcript; but to reproduce the

words which were spirit and life to their first believing hearers in such a way that they continue

tocommunicatetheirsavingmessageandprovethemselvestobespiritandlife...thatisthe

work of the Spirit of God.445

BrucebelievesthatJohn’straditionwasnotsimply“preserved by John and his disciples . . .

it flourished as a living and growing tradition, but remained faithful to its historical

basis.”446 We suspect that John displays more historical substance and interest than

Shakespeare, but the analogy of Lindars and Bruce points us in a fruitful direction. John is

more “impressionistic” and less “photographic” than the Synoptics, yet clearly works from

historical tradition.447 All our extant Gospels are interpretive, but John, like the others,

“onlygaveaninterpretationwheretherewassomethingtobeinterpreted.”

448

Seeking more ancient analogies than Shakespeare, one could compare John’s “spiri-

tual” Gospel’s interpretation of Jesus (as some early Christians saw it) with Plato’s reading

of Socrates: a more meditative interpretation of his teacher than Xenophon’s or the Synop-

tics’ interpretations of their teachers.449 The analogy is helpful but imperfect; evidence for

historical tradition in John probably exceeds that for Plato’s dialogues. A stronger analogy

may be two different kinds of wisdom language; Matthew records especially the sort of

wisdomasagewouldgiveinpublic,Johnthemoreesotericwisdomtradition,bothin

keeping with Jesus the sage.450 Yet another analogy may lie still closer at hand for a Jewish

audience. If John was aware of other narrative gospels circulating (and it would be difficult

INTRODUCTION

441 MacRae, Invitation, 16, says that whether or not John used the Synoptics, no one doubts that

John reinterprets the Jesus tradition.

442 Cf., e.g., Maximus of Tyre Or. 11.7–12.

443 Lindars, John, 31. Brodie, Quest, 153–55, emphasizes John’s move from his historical sources

to interpretation.

444 Lindars, John, 25.

445 Bruce, John, 16.

446 Ibid., 6.

447 As noted especially in Thompson, “Historical Jesus.”

448 Gerhardsson, “Path,” 96.

449 Appian R.H. 11.7.41 is skeptical of Plato’s accuracy (but paradoxically takes the Iliad more

seriously, R.H. 12.1.1). Cf. also the quite different portrayal of Musonius Rufus in the collections of

Lucius and Pollio (Lutz, “Musonius,” 12–13).

450 See Witherington, Sage, 336–38.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

tobelievethathewasnot,evenif,aswethink,hedidnothavethosescrollsopeninfrontof

him), his adaptation of the form could well rest on a precedent he found in his Bible.

Thus perhaps more significantly as an analogy, John’s Greek-speaking Jewish contem-

poraries knew Deuteronomy as a sort of “second law,” a more cohesive epitome or revisita-

tion of the law from a different angle.451 John’s many speeches may resemble the lengthy

deliberative speeches of Moses in Deuteronomy. This is not to suggest that John has

structuredhisGospellikeDeuteronomy,withitsblessingsorcurses.NordoesthisGospel

directly resemble the many rewritings of Pentateuchal material from this period.452 But

the book is full of Deuteronomic and Mosaic allusions (such as Moses’ signs) and com-

parisons favoring Jesus over Moses.453 TheprologuepresentsJesusasTorah,greaterthan

Moses; assertions of his deity frame the prologue (1:1, 18) and the gospel minus its epi-

logue (1:1; 20:28). Other texts also present Jesus as greater than Moses (5:45–46; 6:32;

9:28–29; 15:13–15). Jesus’ final discourse in the Gospel would fulfill the same function as

that of Moses in Deuteronomy, planting the narrative into the life of the future commu-

nity, followed by the narrative of his death.454 Moses was the greatest prophet because he

knew God “face to face” (Deut 34:10); Jesus himself is God’s face (John 1:18).

Conclusion

The Fourth Gospel is closer in form and substance to the Synoptic Gospels than to

the apocryphal and gnostic gospels, but its divergence from dependence on Synoptic tra-

dition makes most of its contents impossible to verify (or falsify) on purely historical

grounds. That John falls into the general category of biography, however, at least shifts

the burden of proof on the matter of reported events (albeit not the particular ways of

describing them) onto those who deny John’s use of tradition for the events he describes,

although the historical method cannot check the accuracy of most of his individual de-

tails. The different portrait of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel suggests that John has taken

more sermonic liberties in his portrayal of Jesus, but this does not demonstrate that he

lacks historical tradition on which the portrayal is based.455 Comparisons with the Syn-

optics suggest that John both uses historical tradition and tells it in a distinctive way; but

this pattern is more obvious for the narratives than for the more interpretive discourses,

on which see the next chapter.

1. Genre and Historical Considerations

451 Deuteronomy was one of the most popular books, perhaps the most popular book, among

early Jewish interpreters, if incidence at Qumran supplies a clue (Cross, Library, 43). Westermann,

John, 22–23, 67, likewise compares the contrast between the interpretive speeches of Deuteronomy

and Joshua, on the one hand, with Exodus and Numbers, on the other; Stuhlmacher, “Theme,” 15,

compares John’s use of Jesus tradition with Jubilees or 11QT “updating” the Pentateuch.

452 As rewritings of Deuteronomy, Ashton, Understanding, 472, mentions Jub. 1; L.A.B. 19; 1Q22;

Testament of Moses. 11QTemple may function as an eschatological Deuteronomy (Wise, “Vision”);

at least 11QTemple 51.11–66.11 adapts and often paraphrases Deut (Schiffman, “Paraphrase”).

453 For Moses parallels, see, e.g., Teeple, Prophet; Glasson, Moses; Herlong, “Covenant”;

Lacomara, “Deuteronomy”; Ashton, Understanding, 472–76. In this Gospel, however, it is Jesus’ dis-

ciples who are most analogous with Moses, and Jesus as God’s glory (1:14).

454 For comparisons of John 13–17 with Moses’ last discourse, see our comments ad loc. Jesus’

promise of the Spirit is his testament to the new community like Jacob’s testamentary blessing of the

tribes in Gen 49:3–27 and Moses’ in Deut 33.

455 Dodd, “Portrait,” suggests that John supplements what we know from the Synoptics, but ar-

gues that the figure of Jesus stands behind both.

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

This impasse in deciding between John as a substantially reliable historical source (re-

porting events and Jesus’ teachings in his own way) and John as a free adapter of relatively

few traditions could be challenged more effectively if we could determine the nature of his

sources. Although knowing his sources would not determine the degree of adaptation, de-

pendence on a genuinely historically reliable source would improve our ability to trust the

Fourth Gospel’s historical witness to Jesus, a trust much of the Johannine community

regarded as very important (1 John 4:1–6).

Given the common traditions early Christians shared, the frequency of travel in the

Roman world, and the widespread circulation of at least Mark by this period, it is not un-

likely that John knew some forms of the Synoptic tradition. Even where he overlaps with

this tradition, however, he goes his own way, telling the story independently and probably

from memory. But if the author of the Fourth Gospel, its tradition or its nucleus were him-

self an eyewitness—a view much disputed in recent years but consonant with the claims of

the Gospel itself (1:14, 19:35; cf. 1 John 1:1)—independence from the Synoptic tradition

would not call into question its essential reliability; indeed, it could (in the documentary

sense) make the Fourth Gospel a step closer to the historical Jesus than the Synoptics are. If

the Fourth Gospel was not dictated by but nevertheless depends on an eyewitness, its basic

claims concerning events remain at least on historical par with the Synoptics. Only if no

eyewitness tradition stands behind it on any level, and it was freely composed novelisti-

cally or with the most liberal haggadic adaptation (all scholars acknowledge some adapta-

tion and conformity with Johannine idiom), does the Gospel fail to provide substantial

historical data about Jesus. The question of authorship is therefore important for deter-

mining where this Gospel fits within the continuum of ancient biographies’ treatment of

history. Before we turn to that question, however, we must examine a specific form-critical

matter in this Gospel that is distinctive to it vis-à-vis the Synoptics: its speech material.

INTRODUCTION

Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John

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